Out of the Shadows
by fall shadow
Summary: Harry has been raised to follow a path of darkness, but when he meets Hermione things start to change and he finds out everything he has been led to believe is a lie. Now, with a strengthened resolve, he must do whatever it takes to stop the one he once considered his master.
1. The Prisoner

Disclaimer: Everything familiar belongs to J.K. Rowling, and this story will have some similarities to the original books.

I have written a few stories before, but this is by far the longest and the first story I'm posting. I hope you like it, and any feedback would be appreciated. Thanks for reading!

Note: The first few chapters are pretty dark, but the story does lighten up and become more balanced as it goes on.

Edit: I had thought what I was using for page breaks worked, but when I checked again, it didn't. So now I added lines to break up the areas of transitions. I hope no one was too confused by this before. Thanks.

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**Chapter 1: The Prisoner  
**

"Potter," a stern, distasteful voice called from another room and commanded, "come out here."

Harry Potter felt his stomach tighten and rose to his feet without a second thought for the woman before him who had been teaching him a new spell. If his lessons were being interrupted, it was important. And it was never something good. As Harry emerged from the back study into the darkly decorated hall of the basement, he wondered briefly what he would be asked to do this time. He walked through the doorway of a spacious room with little furniture and a large, ornate chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

"Potter," the man with long blonde hair addressed him, "we have another job for you."

Harry looked up at him with an expressionless face, waiting for his instructions. He liked to think that over the years he had become rather good at hiding his emotions, especially fear, nervousness, and anger. All three were warring inside him as he regarded the man blankly.

"We have a new prisoner," the man continued.

This got Harry's attention. They hadn't had a new prisoner in quite a while who they actually kept around. Normally their prisoners only lasted a day or two. Harry fought off the reflex to flinch as memories flashed in his mind, all filled screams and bright green light. Two years ago, he wouldn't have been able to.

"She's a mudblood. I can't stand the thought of that filth in my home, but the Dark Lord insists that she is kept here until Bellatrix can interrogate her." The knots twisting in Harry's stomach dropped like a rock and his whole body tensed. _Bellatrix?_ She was the most brutal, and certainly the least predictable. Harry felt dread spreading through him. He remembered the lessons she had taught him most vividly. He had to; her punishments ensured it.

"You will be in charge of bringing food to her. Unfortunately, we don't know how long it will be before Bellatrix decides to show up, so we can't just let her starve. She is supposed to have important information about Dumbledore and his disgraceful, muggle-loving followers."

_Dumbledore?_ Harry felt anger flare in him in addition to his anxiety. Dumbledore knew things about his parents. But as of last year, Dumbledore was dead. Without noticing it, Harry had clenched his fists. Dumbledore had been friends with aurors. The man smirked somewhat at Harry's response to the information.

"I will call for you when the mudblood gets here. We should at least give her a warm welcome, don't you think, Potter?"

His anger drained quickly and was replaced by a sick feeling in his stomach. He knew what that meant, all too well, but his face remained stoic.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy."

"Now get back to your lesson. My wife is waiting."

Harry did as he was told, and continued the lesson, only half there, as he waited for the prisoner's arrival.

* * *

About an hour later, Harry heard his name called once again. He picked himself up from the table and walked mechanically back to the large room, trying to steel himself for whatever would happen. When he walked into the room, his eyes immediately fell on the newcomer. A girl, probably around his age, though he wasn't a good judge. This surprised him. No one around his age was ever here, except occasionally Draco. Her hands were bound behind her back, and she was blind-folded. Harry looked her over to assess her condition. She was trembling slightly and the sleeve on one of her shoulders was ripped, but otherwise he found she looked relatively unharmed.

His eyes slid over to her captor, and her lack of injuries made a bit more sense. Snape was standing next to her, in a thick black winter cloak, holding the girl by her upper arm tightly. The greasy-haired wizard was usually one of the least violent with the people he abducted. His eyes met Harry's and he was reminded of just how much Snape loathed him. Harry never knew what to make of him. When he first met him, he hated him, and he had thought the feeling was mutual. But once, when he was fifteen, he had heard Snape talk Malfoy and Bellatrix out of trying to force him to kill their prisoner at the time. It had shocked him, and he had immediately known that he was certainly not supposed to have overheard that conversation. He had watched Snape very closely for the following weeks, but if anything he had only treated Harry more coldly than the years before.

He looked back to the girl. It had been about seven years since he had seen a girl his own age. Seven years, since he had attended a normal public school with his cousin, Dudley. Harry had not been fond of his cousin, or his aunt and uncle, who had raised him since he was a year old. They had made it clear that they wished he wasn't there, and used him for chores and rotten jobs. He worked hours in the yard, cleaned, was taught to cook, and at the end of the day he returned to his small cupboard under the stairs. Harry had never been given presents or taken on family trips if it could be helped or treated like a member of the family. Compared to life with the Death Eaters, that seemed like a nice, quiet place to live.

He followed Snape and Malfoy to the dungeons, as instructed, his mind still far away. He had to keep it that way. Otherwise, his thoughts might drift over to how she fought not to scream. How her body trembled as the curse hollowly left his lips. The punishment he knew was lurking around the corner for failing to cause enough pain, again, would be waiting for him later.

When he was ten years old, the Dursleys had taken him with them on vacation. Normally, they left him with a neighbor, Mrs. Figg, but she was away, and Dudley had demanded the trip tirelessly. Begrudgingly, they had been forced to bring him along. And one night during their stay at the hotel, a man in a black cloak had broken into the room and taken Harry. He was then brought to this house, the Malfoy residence, where he had spent the last seven years of his life. The Malfoys and other Death Eaters had taught him magic. Charms, hexes, and curses, they had taught him all sorts of magic over the years, and he could tell by some of their reactions that he picked some things up quicker than they anticipated. Harry had particularly hated potions, though, which Snape had usually been his mentor for. He remembered summers full of potions lessons, day after day, complete with essays and homework which were sometimes due the very next day's lesson. Most of his other subjects were put on hold in the summer, with his overload of potions, but they would still test him sometimes.

Mr. Malfoy went back upstairs and Snape held Harry back for a moment, pulling him aside and telling him quietly, but intensely, that he would do well to remember he is not to talk to the prisoners. He also pulled out a wand, which he handed to Harry.

"This is hers. I have no use for it, nor do I want it around. Hold on to it. And if they dispose of her, you can keep it for all I care. Maybe a different wand will improve your pitiful spellwork." Snape sneered at him. Harry held his tongue and pocketed the wand, following the man away from the dungeon.

One particularly awful memory came to his mind of a time when Bellatrix had visited unexpectedly and asked Harry before she left to turn her knife into a crow. Although he remembered the spell she had taught him several months before, he had only managed to give the handle two black, bird-like feet and the blade some black feathers. The punishment she dictated for the incomplete transfiguration had been harsh. The Death Eaters who visited Malfoy Manor would often quiz him on something they had taught him before, and if he answered incorrectly or could not perform the spell properly, would see to it that he didn't forget their teachings again. He always remembered Bellatrix's lessons best.

The Malfoys sent him to his room, saying they were done with him for now and he should leave them until he was needed again. He walked up another set of stairs and down the hallway.

Once the Dark Lord had returned to full power, by completing a ritual with Wormtail that required Harry's blood for reasons unknown to him, he had been given a slightly more active role in Death Eater business, though he rarely knew what was going on. The Dark Lord spoke to him as if he was his apprentice and had talked to him about things that others never had, like his parents. He told Harry that they were a lot alike and that he would one day brand Harry as a Death Eater like his parents had been. Harry lay down on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

Harry remembered the conversation vividly.

"_I know you feel alone. I did when I was your age, too. Like no one really understands you," The Dark Lord had told him. "I was an orphan, too. I knew your parents, Harry." Harry always felt the need to look when he used his first name. He was the only one who did. His eyes rose to meet Voldemort's snakelike ones. "They were Death Eaters. They knew that I could change the world for the better." Harry's insides flipped and his world stopped. His parents were Death Eaters? They were like the people that had surrounded him the last few years of his life? They tortured and killed and hated like them? They obeyed the Dark Lord, as he himself had to now? Something about it didn't sit right with Harry. He found it so hard to believe._

"_You are young, Harry. I know you don't like everything you see from my followers. But one day you will understand, as they did, that this is the best way. Sometimes we must do things we do not wish to in order to achieve our ultimate goals. Your parents knew this. You are young now, but one day, you will see."_

_Harry was shaking, trembling, and fighting hard to compose himself in front of his master. His parents were like this? Maybe this was how he was supposed to be. Maybe he was just too young to understand. Normally, asking questions out of turn could get him a severe punishment, but this time he couldn't hold his tongue._

"_Who killed my parents?"_

_Voldemort almost smiled, and it chilled Harry's blood and raised the hairs on the back of his neck._

"_You are not ready to know that yet, Harry. Once you prove yourself to me, once you become one of us, the answer will be yours." Harry thought he was going to leave it at that, but as Voldemort turned to leave, he looked back at Harry and said, "I will tell you this. It was an old friend of Albus Dumbledore."_

_Surprised that he had been given any information, Harry latched onto it with all he had. Albus Dumbledore. He knew who killed his parents. If it was a friend of his, he had to. Anger burned inside him until Voldemort left and he was sent back to his room. Then he remembered what he had found out about his parents. They had been Death Eaters. Lying in his bed that night, looking out at the moon and the stars, he couldn't stop the tears from streaming down his face. He hadn't thought about his parents often since he had been taken here, but somehow this was not the image he had of them. It broke him in a way that he had not expected to think that his parents may have been one of these people. One of the people he is expected to become. He was thirteen at the time._

* * *

A few hours later, now in the evening, he found himself walking a small plate of food he would hardly call appetizing down to the dungeons at Mrs. Malfoy's direction. It was often his job to slip the prisoners their rations and check on them, especially if they were blood-traitors or muggle-borns, as the Death Eaters wanted to see them as little as possible. However, for some reason he couldn't place, Harry felt more nervous descending the stone stairs into the darkness that night.

He was still shaking from the result of another curse they thought too weak, too spineless. He needed to mean it. They told him that every time. He could feel the bruise forming on his cheek, under his left eye, but found that he couldn't bring himself to care.


	2. Reflection

Thank you so much for the reviews and support so far! It was interesting to get different people's thoughts and perspectives on the beginning. I took some of it into consideration. I hope you enjoy the next chapter.

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**Chapter 2: Reflection  
**

"Mudblood." The word left a bad taste in his mouth and an empty feeling in his chest that mirrored the darkness in front of him. When he sensed no movement from behind the bars, he paused, straining his eyes to see deeper into the room. After a few moments, his vision adjusted enough so that he could see the silhouette of a person sitting against the wall.

Harry wasn't sure how much time had passed. He felt frozen rooted to the spot. Somehow, he knew she was awake and conscious of his presence, but he couldn't figure out what else to say. Normally when the prisoners did not respond, he set the food down where they could reach it and left.

The shadow moved, slowly, to an upright position. It approached him, and stopped a few feet in front of the bars separating them. Within seconds, he could see her face dimly lit from the light of the candle on the wall near the cell.

Her eyes seemed to be analyzing him. Self-consciously, Harry stood more rigid and tensed his muscles to stop their nervous twitching. Her eyes paused on his cheek, where he remembered there was probably a bruise forming. His jaw clenched a little tighter. Her eyes met his.

In the middle of the night, he found his eyes once again glued to the bare ceiling of his room. Moonlight shone through his window, giving everything it touched an iridescent glow. But the young man lying there didn't notice.

All he saw were her eyes, and the way they had searched his. Brown, a slightly dark shade, with brighter, almost golden flecks that caught the light of the dancing flames from the candle. There was a reason he never looked their prisoners in the eyes. Somehow he instinctively knew it would break him. In her eyes he saw a person, a young girl, around his own age. He saw emotions, questions, uncertainty, dreams, and fear. He saw memories, friends, a history, a family, and love. He saw something never reflected in the eyes of the Death Eaters.

He saw himself.

Harry cursed the knots in his stomach as he took a small chunk of bread and water down to her the next morning.

"M-Mudblood." His voice didn't falter. He said it the same as he had the night before. His tone hadn't changed.

_She knows information about Dumbledore. She is supposed to be on good terms with him. She may even know who killed my parents._

A second later, her eyes appeared from the darkness and those thoughts were wiped from his mind.

_Her face looks a little thinner. There is no way this is enough food. Maybe she is sick? No, she could probably just use more to eat. It has been a few days._

The next meal, dinner, he told the Malfoys he was not feeling well and they let him take the rest of his dinner to his room. This had long been a sort of unspoken agreement between them. Ever since he had thrown up in their dining room on one of his first nights there, they had permitted him to take the rest of his plate to his room if he didn't feel like finishing his meal yet. As long as they didn't have a mess in their house, they didn't care where he ate.

Harry carefully hid the rest of his food and waited with his plate mostly empty on the nightstand next to his bed. When Mrs. Malfoy called him to bring food down to the dungeon, he carefully waited until she was out of sight and slipped his hidden food onto the plate. Checking that the hallway and stairs were clear, Harry hurriedly crept toward the dungeon.

"Taking scraps to the vermin, Potter?"

Harry flinched and turned, seeing Draco emerging from a dimly lit room partway down the hall. His tone had been level, bored even, missing the sneering malice it had always held. The shadows just visible under his eyes were evidence that Harry wasn't the only one with trouble sleeping. Over the last year, Draco had been acting very differently. At times, he had been tense and on edge, snapping at everyone, and others he would be distant.

It had been strange, seeing someone normally so hostile and confident look scared and lost. Harry had pieced together some of the reasons behind the changes in the usually arrogant Slytherin, but despite his efforts, there were gaps in what he had overheard.

Trying not to look suspicious, Harry eyed Draco, shifting his arm to try to hide the extra food under his sweatshirt. However, he needn't have bothered; Draco continued into another room without waiting for Harry to reply or baiting him further. Turning back around before someone else could spot him, Harry carefully added the smuggled part of his dinner to her plate.

After coming to get her food, silently as always, the girl looked up to his face with a quizzical expression. Harry averted his eyes, debating on a lame excuse for the obvious difference in the food he offered, which she seemed to have noticed. Deciding to just ignore it and act like nothing was different, he glanced at her. Her brown eyes were still searching him. She looked like she was trying to piece together some intricate, confusing puzzle. He quickly looked away again, and turned to leave.

"Thank you."

The words were so quiet he wasn't sure he had heard them. They would be the first she had ever spoken to him. If it weren't for the sudden hesitation in his footsteps, it would seem like he had not caught the sound at all.

The next day, he covertly shared a portion of his breakfast and lunch with her, too, feigning illness to the Malfoys and leaving the prisoner quickly after giving her the plate. He realized at breakfast that he had not called for her. She had just come over to receive the food he offered. Harry wasn't sure when that had started, but he didn't mind not having to say anything.

On his way back up from the dungeons a while after the normal lunch hour, seeming as it had taken him a while to get a clear path down the stairs with the extra food, he heard something that froze him in place.

_Bellatrix. _He knew that cruel, high-pitched voice. Something like ice shot through him as he realized what that meant. She was going to be interrogated tonight. His legs carried him the rest of the way up the stairs and to his room. He felt like he was on autopilot. Harry hated interrogations, especially those done by Bellatrix. He could picture the girl's eyes, full of fear, pain, confusion, determination. Lying down on his bed, he waited for the inevitable, feeling hollow.

Though it felt like hours, Harry didn't have to wait long. Mr. Malfoy called him downstairs and told him to take food down to the dungeons early since they would be having a party after dinner. His stomach was in knots. The plate was emptier than usual. He knew why. Harry was glad he hadn't eaten much lunch.

He took the plate and descended into the darkness of the dungeon. She came to meet him to get her food. Harry was staring at the plate, his insides filled with turmoil and dread. She reached out for it and hesitated, her hands halfway to the plate.

_She must've noticed the difference in food, especially since I have been bringing her extra. _Before he could stop himself, he looked up at her.

Their eyes met and he could see a question on her face. Then, to his surprise, her expression changed to reflect how he felt.

_She looks worried. Am I that transparent? I haven't been focusing. Without anyone watching, I forgot to keep myself in check._

Cursing in his head and taking in a breath, Harry transformed his face the best he could into a stoic, lifeless expression. She still hadn't taken the plate. He considered whether or not he should say something when she spoke instead.

"What is it?" she asked, in a hoarse whisper of a voice.

Startled, his eyes flickered to hers and he had to fight to look away. When he had, he waited, and after a few moments, she took the plate. He turned to walk away, but something stopped him from ascending the stairs.

"I wouldn't eat tonight."

He kept his voice quiet to make sure no one other than her heard him. Harry turned and walked upstairs without glancing back.

"Go and fetch the wretched little piece of filth, Potter. I don't want to touch her with my hands." Harry saw memories of Bellatrix's favorite knife in his mind. The thought of her using it tonight did nothing to calm his nerves.

_I hardly ever have to move the prisoners. _

"And bind her hands," Mr. Malfoy tossed him a rope, "I don't want her getting any ideas."

"Hurry up, you useless boy," Bellatrix snapped, even though Harry had already started toward the dungeon stairs, "I've been waiting all day for this."

Harry was trying to coerce his limbs into not shaking. He reached the barred door and paused. Even though he didn't have a plate, she came to the door, though more hesitantly, he noted. He took out his wand and pointed it in her direction. She flinched, but the only result was the door slowly opening. Pocketing his wand, he quickly moved behind her and grabbed her hands, bringing them together. Touching her skin rattled him a bit, and he noticed that his hands were still shaking.

_Her skin is so cold._

"What are you doing?" she asked him, trying to pull her hands away, but he gripped her wrists tighter.

She looked over her shoulder at him and caught his eyes. The sick feeling swimming inside him doubled and his whole body tensed at the fear and vulnerability in her eyes. His grip loosened and he hesitated, just staring at her back, holding her wrists. After a moment, he pulled the rope around her wrists and tied her hands together behind her back. She made no further attempt to stop him.

He knew he was tying it loose. He had no idea why he was doing it. He hadn't planned it or thought it out. He had just started tying and that was the result. She was still bound, but he knew she could get free if she struggled enough. He would bet she could tell, too.

When he was done tying, Harry paused again. He put his hand on her upper arm and walked her out of the barred cell she had been trapped in for several days. He had an idea of what was waiting for her up the stairs. She was better off in that dark, isolated dungeon.

Harry wondered if the trembling he felt was her or him. He couldn't tell anymore.


	3. Instinct

I appreciate the feedback so far, so thank you again. I doubt all of the updates will be this quick, but for now, here is chapter 3. I think it gets more interesting from here on out, so I hope you enjoy it.

Thanks for reading.

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**Chapter 3: Instinct  
**

Harry heard Bellatrix's dangerous threat about him not knowing how to tie a bloody knot, and what the result of that would be, but he barely registered it. His eyes were fixed on the girl's face. She had managed to break free from the poor bondage during the last wave of torment Bellatrix had put her through, and was now pinned to the floor by the deranged interrogator. The fight left in the prisoner seemed to be diminishing as Bellatrix pulled out her ornate knife. Harry was surprised how strong-willed the girl had been so far. She hadn't given any information through several Cruciatus curses and had visibly fought off the urge to scream as much as she could.

"Oh, you don't like to talk, hmm? Well then, let's make it easy for everyone to know what you are! No talking." Bellatrix pulled the girl's sleeve up and sliced through it near the shoulder, ripping the rest of it off her arm violently. She then cast a quick spell on the other arm to hold it down, put her wand back in her robes, and grabbed the sleeveless arm with her free hand. With the other, she pressed the blade of the knife against the bare skin of her victim's arm.

"Change your mind yet?" Hermione remained silent. "Good, that wouldn't be any fun! Right, _Mudblood_? Now everyone will know! Even after I kill you, it will be engraved on your body."

Harry could feel himself tensing even more. He should have been expecting something like this. These interrogations were never clean. He had struggled through them before, watching, trying not to be sick. The girl's eyes were scrunched up in pain as she bit back a cry when Bellatrix started to carve into her skin. He was shaking. He couldn't watch, but he couldn't look away from her. The strangled whimper that she failed to hold in dug at his heart. Glancing away from her face for just a second, he saw blood just starting to seep out of her forearm where the knife cut, which was moving agonizingly slow.

"Don't worry, Mudblood. As soon as I am done, you will die."

Suddenly, she forced her eyes open, and after blinking a few times, she sought him out. In a moment, her eyes locked on his, pleading, and he froze. Another noise of pain left her lips as Bellatrix moved her knife and said something, toying with the girl again, but Harry didn't catch the words. All of his focus was on her eyes, which she was still fighting to keep open and locked on his.

Something inside Harry snapped. In half a second, his shoulder was slamming Bellatrix off of the girl as he whipped out his wand and instinctively cast Protego in the direction of the Malfoys, who had been watching the scene silently. A sharp pain registered in his shoulder and upper chest, but almost immediately faded from his notice as adrenaline took over and he watched several spells repel back off his shield charm and away from them. He was on his hands and knees over the girl, one knee between her legs and a hand on one side of her as he held his shield charm up to the other side to protect them.

"Expelliarmus!" he shouted toward the Malfoys, glimpsing Draco's wand fly out of his hand as Harry scrambled to his feet, pulling the girl with him.

"Stupefy!" He heard her say, and before he had time to wonder how she had gotten her hands on a wand, a spell flew by him. Turning, Harry blasted one of the large windows in the Malfoy manor open. He raced toward the window, pulling her along as fast as he could, and leapt out the moment she had caught up enough to come with him.

"Accio wand!" Harry yelled as they dropped, hoping it would bring him the right wand. Thankfully, the window wasn't that high. Harry saw a jet of green light streak past the girl's hair as they landed on the ground. She stumbled, but he kept her on her feet. He snatched the wand that zoomed toward him and thrust it into her hand, which instinctively dropped the other she had picked up inside.

"Fifteen meters and you can apparate! Go!" Harry told her, luckily deflecting another spell coming toward them.

Harry felt himself jerked sideways as she pulled his hand with her determinedly as she ran. Harry felt his eyes widen as a green light advanced on them rapidly.

_Hurry!_

He barely registered a slight tug behind his navel and suddenly the green light was gone.

He landed on cold, hard ground with a thud. She was lying on the ground next to him, breathing as hard as he was, her hand still clutching his tightly. For a few moments, neither of them moved as they looked up at the sky.

_What the bloody hell did I just do?!_

Then Harry sat up and asked in a heated voice, "Why did you bring me with you? They'll find us!"

The girl sat up, too, and answered in a somewhat raspy, but annoyed voice, "I couldn't just leave you there, after you did that! They would have killed you!"

Harry didn't respond, and instead stood up, letting go of her hand.

"You have to get out of here. They will find me."

The girl stood, too.

"I'm not leaving you alone to get caught after you saved me," he started to open his mouth to argue, but she cut him off, "I can put up wards so that they can't find us. Do you really _want_ to go back?"

"Fine." His answer was curt, but he couldn't argue with that.

"Then I will take us somewhere else and we can find an area to set up the wards," she said matter-of-factly as she walked over to him.

She took hold of his hand and quickly apparated them somewhere else. Wherever it was, it was freezing. Harry barely had time to notice this before she was pulling him away from where they had appeared.

"Where are we?" Harry asked, the anger gone from his voice. He was genuinely curious. It looked like a snowy forest from a fairytale.

"France- a mountainside to the north- my parents and I went skiing here years ago," she answered, still clearly focused on finding a decent spot. She seemed to have decided on one because she stopped and let go of his hand.

"I will put up the wards around here and try to transfigure that rock formation into a tent for now. We'll need to get out of the cold while we figure out what to do."

Harry watched as she went to raise her wand, but stopped short, looking at it curiously.

"How did you get my wand?" she asked, glancing at him as she raised her hands to start forming the protective barriers.

"Snape gave it to me after he locked you in the dungeon."

Harry watched silently as she finished the incantations, trying to note the perimeter she had set up. When she was done, she looked worn-out.

_I can't believe she's still standing. After being locked up for three or four days, being fed only scraps, and just getting tortured by Bellatrix…_

She seemed a bit wobbly, so he walked over to her.

"Are you alright?" He asked, surprised that he did feel concerned.

"Yes. I will be fine. I just need to get this changed into a tent and lie down for a bit."

"I can do it," Harry told her, and without waiting for a response, he cast a spell on the rocks that transformed it into a decent-sized tent.

She looked mildly impressed as he led her into the tent.

"It's not much, but it's better than outside, at least," he offered, unsure of himself. The tent was not much bigger on the inside but did have a few small room sections and some basic furnishing.

"This will do just fine," she told him, in a kind, tired voice. "Oh!" she suddenly exclaimed, her voice much more focused, "Your shoulder, it's bleeding!"

Harry looked down and he did seem to have a slash in his clothing across part of his shoulder and chest. While concentrating on everything else, the pain must not have caught up to him.

"Here," the girl said, reaching out and touching his jacket, "I can heal it. Sit down."

"It will be okay until morning. It isn't bleeding that badly," Harry tried to tell her, but she wasn't having it.

"It will only take a few minutes to heal it enough to work with better in the morning. I'm sure it will feel better, and _heal_ better, if I treat it now."

Sensing that arguing would do him no good, Harry relented. She must have seen it in his face, because she reached up and started slowly pulling on his jacket. Realizing what she was trying to do, Harry helped her remove it, and, to his embarrassment, his shirt. Her eyes almost immediately dropped to his left forearm.

It only took a few seconds to register why. He couldn't blame her. For a second he wondered if that was partly why she was insisting on healing him now before she went to sleep.

"Expecting to see something there?" he asked, certain that she was. But she didn't look all that surprised.

"I wasn't sure. But honestly I don't think I was."

Surprised by her words, he looked down nervously at his thin, smooth bare chest and the jagged line of red running across it.

_That doesn't look great, but at least it isn't deep._

He chanced a glance at her face again, which was now completely focused on his injury, her wand pointed just to the side of his heart. As she started to say a spell he had never heard before, Harry felt warmth in the area of the cut, followed by a refreshing, cool sensation. Watching her face as she healed him, he was amazed by her concentration. When she stopped, he noticed again how tired she looked.

"You should get some rest," Harry told her as he pulled his torn shirt back over his head. "We can talk and sort things out when you wake up."

"Thank you…" she trailed off, moving to lie down on the small cot-like bed closest to where they had been sitting.

"Harry," he finished for her, realizing that she wanted him to fill in his name.

"Harry," she repeated, her eyes closing slightly. "I'm Hermione Granger."

"Hermione," he tested out her name as she had done with his. "I will try to keep watch until you wake up."

"Thank you, Harry," she told him again.

As Harry watched her drift off to sleep, he wondered how in the world he had gotten himself into this very strange situation.


	4. Family Matters

Thank you again to everyone who is supporting this story! I hope you enjoy the update.

* * *

**Chapter 4: Family Matters  
**

Sunlight was shining through the bare trees, and reflecting off of the light dusting of snow that covered nearly all of the ground Harry could see. He blinked and rubbed his eyes groggily, deciding it was time to check on Hermione again.

Kneeling down next to her cot, he tried to discern whether or not she looked alright. With her facing away from him, it was difficult to tell if she seemed to be sleeping alright. Hesitantly, he reached a hand out to gently turn her face in his direction. His breath caught in his throat when her eyes slowly opened while his hand still rested on her face.

"Hi," he said stupidly after a few moments.

"Hi," she answered shyly.

The fact that he could _feel _her speak shook him back to his senses and he quickly pulled his hand away from her cheek, feeling his face heat up. Before he could say anything, she spoke again.

"How is your shoulder?"

"Err, it's alright, I guess. I haven't touched it since last night."

"Good. I can finish healing it in a few minutes," she told him, sitting up.

"Wait, we should figure out what to do for food, first," he suggested.

She seemed to consider this, and agreed.

"We should get something to eat. Should one of us just apparate somewhere and buy some things?" she asked, looking uncertain.

Harry didn't really have any better ideas at the moment, so he nodded.

"I guess. There is a small kitchen in the tent, so we could cook soup or something," then a fairly important thought occurred to Harry. "Oh, we don't have any money, do we…?"

"No, I do," she told him after a moment, "I was on my way home for the winter holiday and I had just gotten some muggle money when- My parents!" all of a sudden she looked terrified. "What happened to them? I was with them when I was taken, but I don't know what happened to them? What if-"

"Hey, calm down," Harry said, putting his hands on her shoulders instinctively to stop her rant. "We will figure it out, okay?" Even as he said this, he had a sinking feeling in his stomach. If they were muggles, they didn't have much of a chance with the Death Eaters. "Let's just worry about getting some food first, and then we can decide what to do."

She got ahold of herself enough to agree and told him to wait while she apparated somewhere to get some food.

"Just, be careful…," Harry told her awkwardly.

"I will. You can rest if you want. I won't be gone long, and it should be safe here with the wards I put up."

"Right, I might just do that," Harry said, longing to sleep.

Almost immediately after she left, Harry fell asleep on the other cot, off to one of the side rooms in the small (by wizarding standards, at least) tent.

* * *

Slowly opening his eyes, Harry took in his dark surroundings, trying to remember why he wasn't looking at the inside of his room at the Malfoy manor. He sat up and noticed a plate on of food and a cup on the table. His eyes then found Hermione, who was putting on a heavy jacket by the entrance to the tent with her back to him.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked, causing her to jump and spin around.

"Oh, Harry, I didn't realize you were awake," she said quickly. Harry got up and walked over to the table, where he noticed a note. Glancing at her, he picked up the note and read:

_Harry,_

_I'm sorry for leaving, but I need to check on my parents. The protection should hold, even if they somehow figure out where we went. I put a charm on the food to stay warm… I hope it's okay. I'll finish healing you when I get back, just stay here until-_

"I'm sorry," she said nervously and he looked up, "I couldn't just sit here and wait not knowing what happened to them."

"You realize that is the first place they will look once they figure out where you live," Harry told her, in a stern voice. "It's a good thing I woke up. This is reckless."

"Yes. I did realize that is the first place they would look, which is why I couldn't just sit around and wait for you to wake up." Her tone was sharp and the glare she had fixed on him was intense. "If they are still… I can't let something happen to them now. It's my fault. I have to try to-"

"Alright." Harry held up his hands in defense. "I get it. But you should have at least woken me to go with you."

Harry walked over and quickly downed half of the soup and grabbed the bagel. He felt Hermione's eyes following him uncertainly.

"Let's go," he told her, pulling on his sliced jacket. At her surprised look, he continued, "Well, did you really think I was going to let you go alone and get yourself right back into trouble again?"

"I can take care of myself," she challenged with an irritated edge in her voice. Looking away from him, she added in a softer tone, "But… thank you."

He walked over to her with a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

_I doubt this is going to be a good trip, but at least I can make sure she won't be alone._

He silently offered his hand, and she took it, holding tight before walking out of the tent, which turned back into rocks after she took the spell off, and past the boundary she had created outside the tent. She then removed the wards.

_She must have put up anti-apparition wards, too. Wow, I didn't realize she would be able to do that._

His eyes darted down to their entwined hands and then up to her face. She looked nervous and tense. Harry squeezed her hand for a second, which was already tightly gripping his, and she looked over at him, coming to a stop before they apparated.

"You're too tense. We might not run into any trouble, but if we do, you need to be alert and ready for anything," he told her in a firm but kind voice.

She took a breath to steady her nerves and her grip on his hand relaxed marginally. They both drew their wands and nodded to each other.

They reappeared at a park which looked similar to where they had first apparated after escaping from Malfoy manor, though now it was darker than the previous night.

"My house is around the corner and just down the street. I figured it would be safer to start from here in case anything did happen."

"Good thinking," Harry told her sincerely. "Lead the way. And keep your eyes out for anything out of the ordinary."

Harry trailed close behind Hermione, his wand ready, trying to take in everything around him. They were walking briskly down the street, parallel to the lit sidewalk but just out of the light.

_Nothing feels wrong here, but they could show up at any time._

"This is it," Hermione said, stopping in front of a brick house about midway down the road. It looked fairly similar to the other houses, and Harry couldn't see anything abnormal about it.

"Alright, let's go around the back. But be careful. It might be a trap."

After parting some walls of shrubbery, they made it into the back yard and looked in one of the windows. Everything seemed normal.

"We need to go in. If they are there, we need to get them out of here in case the Death Eaters do find out where I live."

Harry didn't like the prospect of breaking into a dark muggle house that could be a trap in the middle of the night, but he agreed, knowing she was right.

She got them into the house and he crept behind her up the stairs toward her parents' room. To Harry's mild surprise, they were both there, sleeping in their bed. He could feel some of the tension leave the girl standing next to him.

"Hurry up and wake them. We need to get out of here quick just in case. I'll start packing some suitcases."

Harry quietly muttered the spell to summon their suitcases and then moved to a dark corner of the room to magically shrink and pack some of their belongings as fast as he could.

"Mum, Dad. Wake up."

"What? Hermione? What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at Hogwarts?" her mother asked, clearly confused and still groggy.

"I'm so glad you are okay, I- wait, what? No, I was coming home this winter break. We were on the way here when-"

Harry touched her arm to stop her. Her parents noticed him and made a noise of surprise, but Harry ignored it.

"Their memories must have been modified," he whispered to her. "Just hurry up."

He went back to packing while Hermione told her parents that they might be in danger and she needed to get them somewhere safer immediately.

At first they seemed uncertain, but at Hermione's urging, they were on board and ready to go fast.

"This is Harry," she told her parents hurriedly after they asked. She hesitated and seemed unsure of what to say about him. "He saved my life."

Both of her parents looked shocked and scared, but relieved.

Wanting to change the subject and get a move on, Harry spoke up, "We should really get going. Do you have everything you need?" he asked her parents.

When they nodded, he turned to Hermione, "Was there anything you needed in your room? You might want to grab it now, quick, just in case."

Hermione quickly dashed out of the room and returned before her parents had a chance to do more than look Harry over, with an orange cat in her arms. It had a somewhat squashed-looking face and analyzing eyes. Ignoring it for now, Harry shook his head.

"Where are we taking them?"

Hermione hesitated for a moment, debating how much to tell him, before she answered.

"To a professor I had one year at Hogwarts. I trust him. He told me I could come to his house if I ever needed help or a place to hide."

Harry nodded and Hermione hesitated.

"I don't think I can apparate all of you at once," she looked troubled and frustrated with herself.

"Go two at a time then. I will stay here with one of your parents while you take the other. Just try to be quick about it."

Hermione told her mother to grab her arm. She had a small bag with her while her mother held a mini suitcase.

"You're sure it's safe there?" Harry asked, not willing to trust anyone and not liking the idea of her going there without him.

"I'm sure," she said. Their eyes locked and a second later, they disappeared.

There was a tense, awkward silence for a moment following the small _pop_ of disapparating.

"You saved her life?" the man asked Harry, his eyes studying him.

"Err, well, yeah. I guess," Harry was sure there was a small blush on his cheeks, though he wasn't sure the man could see since it was still mostly dark in the house. He felt incredibly uncomfortable for a number of reasons.

_It's not like I meant to or anything. It just happened. I'm not some hero._

The man looked him square in the eyes, "Thank you," he said genuinely. Harry could hear the thickness of the emotion in his voice, and he was taken aback.

"She is our only child, and she means so much to us," the man told him, his voice now stronger.

Before Harry could consider whether or not he was supposed to respond, there was a _pop_ and Hermione alone had returned, minus the cat and bag.

_Thank Merlin._

Harry realized it wasn't just because it saved him from the awkward conversation that he was relieved to see her.

"Okay, now Dad. Hold on tight." She grabbed his hand before looking to Harry. "I will be right back for you."

Harry nodded and they were gone.

Just a few moments later, she reappeared next to him.

"That was quick."

"I told them I couldn't stay, but Lupin said that I should, too. I said I would ask you, and he agreed to wait for a few minutes before putting up new protection charms."

"I don't know. I don't even know who this guy is. How do I know we can trust him?"

"Do you trust me?" Hermione asked him, looking directly into his eyes.

"No," was his immediate answer. She looked a little surprised, so he hastily back-tracked.

"But, I don't trust anyone. I never have." When she gave him a skeptical look and started to open her mouth to argue, he continued.

"I'm an orphan. I don't have a family. I don't have friends. I don't trust anyone." His voice was flat and emotionless. He didn't need to hear how he _must_ have _someone_ or that couldn't have been true.

"I'm sorry," Hermione looked a bit lost for words at his confession. "This must be hard for you then. But please, you saved me… that has to count for something. I wouldn't turn on you after that. I owe you my life." She looked sincere and Harry found that despite his normal, and in his opinion better, judgment, he found that he did believe her.

"Well, you are the only person I ever felt like I might be able to learn to trust."

She smiled at him and took his hand gently. He flinched and his eyes flew to their hands.

"So we can apparate," she told him hurriedly, "if you are willing to go."

Harry calmed down a bit and asked, "And if I'm not?"

"Then we go somewhere else and make another the tent," she answered without hesitation.

_We._

"Alright, let's just go before we get caught here," he relented, holding her hand tighter in preparation for the trip. Harry closed his eyes, trying to mentally ready himself for whatever would become of the risk he was taking in trusting her. Little did he know, it would turn his whole world upside down.


	5. The Truth

Here's the next chapter. I hope you enjoy it. Thanks for reading!

* * *

**Chapter 5: The Truth  
**

Moments later, a younger middle-aged wizard was opening the door to his house and letting them enter, with Hermione in the lead.

"I'm glad you decided to come back," he said as Harry took in his appearance, walking through the door. "Your parents are in one of the guest rooms unpacking."

When they were all inside and the man had shut and locked the down, also casting a spell with his wand, he turned around and his eyes landed on Harry for the first time. His reaction was anything but subtle. The man's eyes widened and Harry tensed, his hand gripping his wand and ready to draw it at any second.

"Are you… Harry Potter?" he asked after the uncertain pause.

Harry nodded once, still keeping vigilant. He saw Hermione start out of the corner of his eye and heard her gasp and mutter something about how she hadn't noticed it before.

"Remus Lupin," he introduced himself, before saying under his breath, "Merlin. Dumbledore always swore you were still alive. He said your parents' magic-"

"Harry!" Hermione yelled, obviously startled by his sudden reaction.

Without warning, Harry's wand was drawn and pointed at Lupin, about a foot from his throat, and Harry looked furious. The lights flickered and there was a crackle of magic and tension in the air. Harry noticed Hermione cast a spell down the hall, which he guessed was aimed at her parents.

"What do you know about Dumbledore and my parents?!" Harry demanded.

Lupin looked shocked, holding up his hands slightly in a defensive position and obviously not sure what to say.

"Tell me what you know! Who killed them?"

"The Dark Lord killed them," Lupin answered in a fairly calm voice for having a wand pointed at him by an enraged teenage wizard.

"Don't give me your lies. Why would he have killed his own followers?"

For a moment, Lupin looked as though he had been punched.

"His followers? Lily and James fought against the Death Eaters. They were members of the Order of the Phoenix," Lupin told him.

"What? Do you really think I would believe that? Dumbledore killed them, or one of his supporters! Who was it?" Harry was shaking from anger and confusion.

_How is he lying so calmly? Does he think I'm stupid?! What the bloody hell is going on?_

"You better start giving me some answers, or you are going to regret it!" Harry took an intimidating step toward the man, his wand inching closer to his neck.

"Harry, stop," Hermione said in an even voice. "This isn't getting us anywhere. We can explain everything if you would just calm down." She put her hand on his outstretched arm, trying to get him to lower his wand. "Lupin is telling you the truth."

Harry rounded on her, his anger flaring. He let his arm fall away from Lupin, and bent it at the elbow, the tip of his wand now touching her abdomen.

"Are you trying to defend him? I'm not going to stand here and listen to this! Are you going to give me a bunch of lies, too?" Harry still looked irate, but the volume of his voice had lowered significantly when he had turned to address her.

"No, I will not lie to you," she told him in a calm voice, looking directly into his eyes, "but you may have been lied to before. We can prove it, and sort it all out." She hesitated and then said in a quieter voice, "You can trust me," she put her hand gently on his forearm, where he was holding his wand pointed at her. "Just relax and we can figure everything out.

He relaxed his arm, letting his wand drop to his side and muttered, "Alright," still looking cross. They all sat down around a nearby table.

"Now, what were you told?" Hermione asked him cautiously.

Harry explained what Voldemort had told, watching their reactions closely. Both of them had looked surprised when he told them Voldemort had been the one to tell him. Lupin looked personally affronted when Harry told them of his parents being Death Eaters, and Hermione just looked stunned.

"Do you really believe that your parents were Death Eaters?" Hermione asked gently.

"I- I don't know. It never felt right. I didn't want to believe it, but…" Harry trailed off, looking upset and unsure of himself.

"I can assure you they were not," Lupin told him firmly. "I grew up with your parents and had been friends with them all through Hogwarts." Harry looked surprised. "You look so much like your father. That's how I recognized you. And when I saw your eyes, I knew it had to be you. They are exactly like your mother's."

Harry felt incredibly uncomfortable. After not being allowed to talk about his parents for as long as he could remember, here he was, sitting with a stranger who claimed to have been friends with them, listening to how he was the spitting image of his father with his mother's green eyes.

"Here," Lupin said, standing up and walking a few paces away, "I can show you."

He handed Harry a small picture, framed with a simple wood boarder. Harry saw about two dozen witches and wizards smiling up at him. He quickly found Lupin in the photo; a younger version of the man, with longer hair and a less weary look about him. His eyes then slid to a couple standing right near the man before him. A wizard, who looked not much older than him, with glasses and dark hair, holding the hand of a red-headed witch with bright green eyes, stared back at him. Harry felt his eyes start to mist over as his throat choked up. Despite his efforts, his hand holding the photo started to shake. Harry put down the photo and swallowed thickly.

"I'm- I'm pretty tired. Do you think I could just sleep for a bit?" Harry asked, trying to keep his voice even. He could feel Hermione's eyes on him.

"Sure. Hermione can show you to one of the other guest rooms. And if you need something to change into, I can grab something for you."

Hermione stood and took his hand, pulling him up with her and leading him down the hall. She opened the door to one of the rooms down the hallway and pulled Harry inside. Her eyes scanned him, thoroughly looking him over, but he refused to look at her.

"Just wait here, I think I have something that would fit you." She returned a moment later, with Harry still exactly as she had left him. "I packed these when I cleared out my room. They were always big on me, but the pants are really comfy."

Eventually, Harry took the offered clothing: an orange unisex medium t-shirt that said something about a "Book-A-Thon" and charcoal gray sweatpants with a thin, flat drawstring and pockets that he guessed were men's.

"They're guys' sweatpants," she confirmed his suspicions a second after he wondered. "But they are mine. They looked really comfortable and warm, and they weren't as tight as the girls' ones, so I got them last year over winter break."

He noticed that she sounded a bit embarrassed about buying guys' clothes for herself. Harry looked at her, slightly amused, and glad to cling to the distraction from everything else racing around his head.

"What?" Her face looked a little flushed. "Why are you looking at me like that…?"

"It's no big deal," Harry told her. "It's not like you bought guys' underwear for yourself."

As she blinked and her face reddened further, he laughed genuinely for the first time he could remember in a long time.

"You wear guys' underwear, too?" He was sure she could tell he was amused, but he couldn't resist teasing her when she was getting so flustered.

"No! Not exactly… sometimes I wear guys' boxers as pajama shorts. They are comfortable, and most girls' pajama shorts are so short." She saw his face was still smirking slightly at her hurried explanation. "I wear girls' underwear under them! I just wear them like shorts! Honestly, it isn't that big of a deal," she told him indignantly.

"Isn't it?" he asked innocently. "You seem to think so."

She noticed what he was implying and she huffed, giving up on explaining herself to him and asked in a mildly annoyed tone, "Well, are you going to wear them or what?"

"Would you like me to change with you standing right there?"

Some of the blush returned to her face and she turned away. "I will go check on my parents and come back in a few minutes. Just hurry up and put them on."

Not long after she left, everything else came flooding back to him: his parents faces, their death, Lupin being their friend, them fighting the Death Eaters, Voldemort killing them. He had to admit, the thought of them fighting against evil seemed more real than the opposite, but he wasn't sure if that was just what he wanted to be true.

He stripped off his worn clothing from Malfoy manor, and pulled on Hermione's clothes, noting that there was, in fact, a pair of boxers in the pile. A somewhat familiar scent filled his senses as the shirt slipped over his head. He tried to focus on the clothing and her scent, fighting his thoughts not to drift to the things he had done during his years at the Malfoys.

"Harry?"

He must have jumped a foot even though she spoke his name softly, and nearly tripped when he turned around to face her. She was barefoot, wearing medium gray sweatpants that looked similar to the ones he had just put on and a sweatshirt overtop her t-shirt.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," she apologized quickly. "I have to finish healing you, remember?"

"Oh, right." With everything else going on, Harry had completely forgotten about his injury.

He removed the shirt and she set about healing him again silently. As finished pulling her shirt back over his head, she spoke.

"How tired are you?"

"I'm pretty tired, I guess, but I'm alright," he answered uncertainly. "Why?"

"I just thought, maybe we could talk." Her voice seemed shy, and she added, "If you want." Harry looked at her skeptically, but decided to at least see what she had in mind.

"What about?" he asked.

"Well, about ourselves." He could tell she was trying to gauge his reaction. "We have helped each other out, but we don't really know anything about each other."

He couldn't argue with that, and getting to know more about her did seem interesting. But her finding out more about him gave him a sick feeling in his stomach.

"I don't know…" he answered, refusing to look at her. "For me there's not much to tell… nothing good, anyway."

She seemed to have been expecting this kind of reaction, and quickly answered, "We don't have to talk about anything you don't want to share. I just thought it would be better to know a little bit more about each other if we are going to be staying here together for a while."

His head was still reeling from everything Lupin had told him and he was beginning to feel weary even though he had woken up only a few hours ago.

"Maybe another night, I don't really feel like talking right now," he eventually settled on.

She looked disappointed, but she nodded and told him she understood.

"Do you… need anything?" she asked before leaving and paused. "Are you alright? I know that must have been… difficult for you earlier."

Harry forced his eyes to her face, which was full of concern.

_Why does she look so worried about me? I'm fine._

Even telling himself, he knew it wasn't true, but he tried it on her anyway, hoping that hearing it out loud might convince him more.

"I'm fine."

Harry somehow knew before the words left his lips that she would see right through his lie. It was strange; usually people didn't.

"You don't have to try to be so brave you know," she told him gently. "I will be in the next room over. Wake me if you need anything." She turned and walked out of the room into the dark hallway and disappeared from his sight.

Harry let himself fall back onto the bed and closed his eyes, trying not to think about how in the last few hours, everything had changed. He failed, of course, and spent the next few hours lying awake, going over everything in his head: the truth about his parents, Voldemort, wondering what had happened to him when they had been killed, Dumbledore, Lupin, Hermione, how he trusted her somewhat without really understanding why, his life, everything he had been forced to do while being kept at the Malfoys, all of his regrets and everything he never wanted anyone to know about him.

And she wanted to know more about him?

_What am I supposed to tell her? 'Oh, yeah, I was just waiting to be made into a Death Eater. Had pretty much accepted it before you came along. I've tortured quite a few people, too. And watched a lot of prisoners suffer. Sorry about that, by the way. How I let them lock you up in a dungeon and then led you up to meet your doom at the hands of that psychotic, evil witch.' Yeah, that would go over well._

Hours later, Harry jerked awake, cold and trembling. His nightmare had been so vivid. He had seen his parents being tortured by Voldemort. His heart was still pounding and his stomach felt sick. Then, Voldemort had walked behind Harry and told him to kill them, saying it was his destiny to betray them and become a Death Eater. Pointing his wand at his own parents, he woke up when he was blinded by green light. He was surprised he wasn't covered in sweat- usually after nightmares he was. Harry pushed his emotions back, a practice he prided himself on, and swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to calm his body down.

Harry quickly discarded any hope he might have had for getting more sleep. _There is no way I'm going to get back to sleep after a dream like that_. Harry sighed, staying in bed looking out the window at the slowly rising sun. A while later, his door creaked slightly and he saw Hermione poke her head in.

"Oh, Harry," she said, walking in after peeking into the room and seeing that he was awake. "I came to wake you up, if you were still sleeping." Her face became serious. "Lupin said there were a few things Dumbledore left him that he was told to give you, should we ever find you. Many people thought it was a lost cause, but Dumbledore always seemed to believe that you were still alive and that you would one day return. He gave the items to Lupin in his will because he had been so close to your parents. I guess Dumbledore saw that as the best link to you out of the people he trusted."

"What did he leave me?" Harry asked intently, feeling a mix of emotions.

"I don't know," Hermione answered, "let's go find out."

With that, they walked together out into the living room where Lupin was waiting for them. Harry was trying to ready himself for the possibility of more staggering information, but nothing could have prepared him for the things he was about to discover about himself, and the Dark Lord.


	6. The Memories

This chapter is longer than the others so far, so I hope you enjoy it. Thanks for all of the support- I really didn't expect the story to get much attention at all. It is awesome to think that some people actually like the story and are interested in reading more!

* * *

**Chapter 6: The Memories  
**

Harry fell back into the room, his chair tilting back somewhat before righting itself with a thud as he landed. A swirling pool of memories sat before him in a pensieve. That's pretty much how his head felt, spinning, with his insides churning. Dumbledore had left him a collection of memories, some of _his_ memories, designed specifically for Harry. The sheer vastness of the information Harry had just had thrust upon him was enough to leave him reeling. The fact that several of the memories had been about him, and about his future, or lack thereof, just added to that in no small way. He felt like he could hardly breathe.

'_Neither can live while the other survives.' I was marked by him. He tried to kill me, but couldn't. That's how I got my scar. He really did kill my parents. I'm only one who can kill him. And if I don't, he'll kill me. Why didn't he just do it before? He would've had plenty of chances while I was at the Malfoys'. _

_I'm the only hope for the whole Wizarding World. So now I have to defeat one of the darkest wizards of all time, and up until a few days ago, I was doing his bidding and thought I was going to become one of his followers myself._

_ Could this really all be true…?_

There was more to see, but Harry needed a break. His stomach felt sick, and he thought for sure he was going to throw up.

_At least I didn't eat breakfast this morning before looking at this stuff._

Lupin walked into the room, his eyes quickly assessing Harry.

"Here," he produced a silver bar from his inside coat pocket. "Eat this; it'll help," Harry seriously doubted whatever it was would cure his inner turmoil, but glanced at the object anyway.

"It's chocolate." Harry noticed that it was, indeed, a bar of chocolate wrapped in silver paper. Just looking at it made his stomach twist uncomfortably, but Harry gingerly took it and placed it on the table next to the pensieve.

"Was it that bad?" Lupin asked him. It seemed the man had expected something grave in the memories Dumbledore had left him.

"I'm not even done yet," Harry managed a small chuckle at his own expense, but they both knew it was half-hearted at best. "Don't know what else he could drop on me after that."

Lupin stood there for a minute, finally saying, "I'm not going to ask you to tell me anything, but if I can be of any help, all you need to do is ask." With that he turned to leave, saying, "Hermione is with her parents. I'm sure she would be willing to help you, too." As an afterthought he added, "Although, she may not be as willing to let you off with not telling her what you found out." Harry could hear the slight undertone of teasing in his voice, and watched him walk away.

After a few minutes, Harry's eyes drifted back to the silvery-white, semi-transparent liquid whirling in front of him. He took several deep breaths, trying to steel his nerves. It wasn't working. Sighing, he looked over at the chocolate.

_Eh, why not? _ He picked up the chocolate and ate half of the bar. _I doubt it could make me feel much worse. _Turning back to the basin and readying himself, Harry started to lean forward. _Whatever it is, it can't be much worse than last time…_

A short while later, Harry once again returned to his chair. He didn't know what to think. Everything in the house was quiet for several minutes. Harry tried to go over what he had learned from Dumbledore's memories; there was just so much. Horcruxes, a dark, evil magic that few people even knew about. Voldemort had split his soul into pieces in an attempt to safeguard his life.

Dumbledore had explained the process, to his knowledge, his theories on the how many Horcruxes Voldemort had, how to destroy them (though there wasn't very much on that subject), and some spells that might be helpful. The wise old wizard also said that he had left Harry some items in his will that might help him on his journey.

The journey; the impossible-sounding voyage to who-knows-where to find famous or otherwise significant objects that had been tainted with the darkest kind of magic, and destroy them by some unknown means, only to return and fight one of the most powerful wizards in the world who just happened to also be the one who killed his parents. How the hell was he supposed to do that? He didn't even know where to start. And the longer he waited, every day, every week, every month that passed, Voldemort got stronger and more and more people died. Harry sighed wearily; his whole body and mind felt drained.

_Why me? How can you just drop something like this on someone?_

With all of the thoughts fighting for attention in his head, Harry had a serious headache and was finding it difficult to focus on any one thing for more than a minute. Casting his eyes toward the hallway, he wondered what Hermione was doing.

_Probably reading that book Dumbledore left her in his will. I wonder why Lupin waited to give it to her until he gave me the things left for me._

Forcing himself out of the chair, he trudged down the hall toward Hermione's room. He figured that her parents must be sleeping or reading in their guest room, because the door was ajar, but he couldn't hear any noise. He had no idea where Lupin had gone, and he didn't know which room was his of the few remaining. Unable to find more reasons to stall, Harry faced Hermione's room. The door wasn't completely shut, but Harry tapped lightly on the door and waited for her permission to enter anyway.

She was sitting on her bed wearing the same clothing as this morning, which Harry reminded himself was not long ago, with a book next to her. Her eyes took in his appearance for a moment.

"Oh, Harry, are you alright?" her voice was full of worry. "Was it that bad? I can't imagine what it would be about, or why he would have left it to you specifically. What did you see?" She seemed to say all of this in one breath. Harry, whose head was already swimming, winched at her questions.

"Err… look, I know you want to know about everything, but I have an awful headache, and for right now I think I want to just lie down."

Hermione looked like a child that had just been told she would have a wait a week to open her Christmas presents. Despite his own lack of experience with gifts and having a real Christmas, he couldn't help but crack a smile at the image that popped into his head: a younger version of Hermione, skinny and with bushy hair and braces (he wasn't sure why he pictured her this way) wearing a t-shirt that was slightly too large for her and plaid pajama bottoms with bare feet, sitting amid a small mountain of presents, a lot of which were book-shaped.

"Harry? _Harry_!"

Harry blinked, coming back to the present, and noticed that Hermione was now standing a few feet in front of him.

"Are you alright? You- what are you smiling about?" Hermione looked genuinely confused, and for some reason Harry felt that was a rare sight.

"Nothing," he answered. The small grin on his face faded fast as the smothering reality caught up to him again. He sighed. "I'm sorry, I know you want to hear everything now, but it was a lot to take in, and-"

"It's alright," Hermione told him, before he could finish, "I understand. I can wait to hear about it." She still looked disappointed.

"Thanks," Harry said sincerely, "I think I'm going to rest for a while."

There was a short pause, and Harry felt like she wanted to say something but held herself back.

"Lupin went out somewhere, but I'll be here. Let me know if you need anything." She looked at him again as she sat back down, picking up her book and opening it to the page she had marked.

Harry wasn't even aware of the short trip back to his room. To his great surprise, he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. Not that surprising, however, was the fact that he woke up not long after, feeling miserable and like he had hardly slept at all.

Harry gave a heavy sigh and turned to look out the window, trying to judge the time. It looked pretty dark, and he guessed it to be evening. Listening carefully, he could hear people talking in another room, probably the living room or kitchen.

_Is there any chance that was all just a dream? Falling into a bowl of memories and finding out that I am destined to kill the dark wizard who murdered my parents, or die trying… that sounds more believable as a dream than reality._

_Is this even real? What if they are lying to me? But Lupin had a picture with himself and my parents… and Dumbledore's memories… that couldn't all be made up could it? The Death Eaters never really gave me any proof at all- I just grew up thinking what they had told me because it was all I knew._

Harry pushed himself up and walked to the bathroom, washing his face, which helped to wake him up. He walked into the kitchen to find Hermione standing there alone, with her parents' voices drifting in from another room. Hearing the floor creak, Hermione turned around.

"Harry, you're awake. How do you feel?" She was holding a plate in her hands that looked wet.

"Better than before, but… not much," he admitted.

She gave him a look of sympathy and didn't push further, turning back to the dishes, but Harry got the impression that she was still willing to talk.

"So, did you find anything interesting in the book?"

"No," she told him in a tone that clearly said she was not pleased with that answer. "I read the whole book and looked things up in some of my other books I brought from home, and… nothing. It just looks like a collection of children's stories. Why Dumbledore would leave me a book of stories like that, I have no idea."

Her frustration was palpable, so he decided to try to change the subject. He walked over next to her and grabbed a dry towel that was on the corner.

"Here, I'll help," he offered his hand and she gave him the plate.

"Thank you. There aren't many more," she still seemed distracted, and Harry frowned.

"Do you want to hear about some of the stuff from Dumbledore's memories?" he suggested, though not whole-heartedly. Just thinking about it made his chest tighten uncomfortably.

She perked up for a second, but then seemed to decide against it.

"No, that's alright. Why don't we just try to forget about it for tonight and tomorrow? It's Christmas."

"What, it is?" Harry asked startled to realize that he really had no idea _what _day it was.

"No, tomorrow is," she told him, amused by his shocked reaction. "Tonight is Christmas Eve. So, why don't we just try to enjoy it while we can?" Harry wasn't convinced that _she _was convinced of her own idea, but a day to relax sounded alright with him. That is, if he was able to relax with everything going on in his head.

"Sure."

"Anyway, I have a feeling that after Christmas, we aren't all going to be able to relax together for a while."

"What do you mean?"

She glanced over at him, and quietly told him, "I have to do what I can to put a stop to what is going on... they didn't take me hostage for nothing you know." Seeing that Harry was about to say something, she spoke first, "But like I said, let's just worry about that after Christmas. We can talk about it later."

Just then, Hermione's cat hopped up on the counter next to them, eyeing Harry warily.

"Oh, Crookshanks, it's alright. That's just Harry," Hermione told the cat, ignoring the snort Harry couldn't hold back in response to its name. "But you really shouldn't be up on the counter."

With a haughty flick of the tail, the cat jumped back down and left the room, not even looking back at the pair of them.

"…Crookshanks?" Harry asked, his eyebrows raised and a smile playing on his lips.

"Yes," she told him, not looking up from the dishes. "That was his name when I got him from the shop in Diagon Alley. He is part Kneazle."

Having finished the dishes, Hermione cleaned up the area and took the towel from Harry, putting it away. He watched her, a dozen question running through his mind.

"My parents are in the living room having some hot chocolate; you would like to properly meet them? Showing up in the middle of the night unexpectedly and demanding they leave their house isn't much of an introduction." Her tone was light, but Harry felt nervous all the same. He had appeared in the middle of the night, a complete stranger, with their daughter, and forced them out of their home with little explanation.

He gave an awkward laugh as his response, and she picked up on his obvious unease. Rolling her eyes, she told him, "Honestly, they are nice people. You have nothing to worry about. Compared to the-" she stopped short, but he knew she had been about to say Malfoys. "Well, unless you are afraid of dentists?" she asked, jokingly, trying to redirect their focus. At Harry's confused look she told him that her parents were both dentists. Seeing that she was trying to lighten up the mood for his benefit made him feel a bit better.

"Oh, I don't really want to tell them about… everything that happened. If they ask how we met, I've got it covered. Just… try to be honest without telling them too much."

Harry nodded, hoping that he would be able to do that. He wasn't exactly used to meeting people who could be called "nice".

_This is ridiculous. After everything else today, I certainly shouldn't be worried about meeting a couple of muggles._

Following her into the living room, he saw her parents sitting on the couch looking at a muggle radio which Lupin was pointing his wand toward.

"Thank you for doing the dishes," Hermione's mother said to her as they walked into the room. "Remus is fixing an old radio to tune into a Christmas station so we can at least have some holiday music."

"Oh, good, it wouldn't be Christmas Eve without Christmas carols," Hermione answered.

_She seems excited._ Harry noted, as he hesitantly sat down with Hermione on the smaller couch. Crookshanks immediately locked his piercing eyes on him from across the room as he neared the cat's master, as if scrutinizing him.

"So, Mum and Dad, this is Harry. He helped me out the night we came to get you."

"Hello, Harry. I'm Lynn Granger, Hermione's mother. It's nice to meet you." She held out her hand politely to shake, and Harry had a second of panic as he reached out.

_My hands are sweating. And shaking. She is going to notice, for sure._

Her handshake was gentle, but not weak.

"And I'm David Granger, Hermione's father." He held out his hand, too, and met Harry's eyes before they shook. Their handshake was definitely firmer on both sides, but not unfriendly.

"So, you are a wizard, Harry?" her mother asked him.

Harry nodded, and then added, "Yes," feeling it might be more polite.

"Did you go to Hogwarts, or some other wizard school?" Out of the corner of his eye, he could tell he had Hermione's undivided attention, as well as Lupin's.

"Er, well, no. I was… home-schooled."

"Oh, are your parents magical, too?" her mother asked. Hermione tensed next to him, but Harry didn't react much; he had expected it.

"Yes, they were. But my parents died when I was very young," he said, avoiding saying that they were killed. "I grew up with my Aunt and Uncle, and their son. They are muggles- non-magic people," he added quickly, trying to make sure it didn't sound like a negative thing, which was hard to do when talking about his relatives. Not to mention that he had been raised to think of muggles as scum. "Then, when I was ten, I… went to live with another family. They were witches and wizards, and they… taught me magic."

"You've been there since you were ten?" Hermione asked in a quiet voice, sounding horrified. Her parents seemed to notice and gave him an interested look. The expression on Lupin's face was attentive, but he kept himself from reacting much.

"Yes," he answered to Hermione and turned to her parents, "the family that I lived with, they… weren't the nicest people."

_Well that was the understatement of the century._

"Harry had a rough childhood," Hermione added quickly on his behalf, before they could ask more about his past. Her parents seemed to understand from Hermione's tone not to ask more about it for now, and were quiet for a minute, debating what to say.

"Well, is there anything you like to do?" her father asked finally.

With only a moment's hesitation, Harry answered, "Flying." He felt a curious gaze from Hermione. "I always got the worst broom, but I loved it. And Quidditch. A few times when they were short a player, they let me join in. I'm a fair seeker. And I'm not that bad at the other positions. Once they figured that out though, I didn't get to play as much." Harry was going to continue when he noticed the looks on their faces.

Hermione looked intrigued and curious, and also a little sympathetic. Her parents both wore expressions of confusion; though he could tell they were trying to follow along.

"You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?" Harry said, laughing at himself a little, looking uncomfortable again.

"I've read about Quidditch, and I went to a match once or twice at Hogwarts, but that's about it," Hermione told him. "And I don't think my parents know anything about it."

"Oh," Harry said, feeling foolish for having said so much about something they didn't understand, "sorry about that, then."

"Maybe you can explain it to me some time," Mr. Granger offered, "I like to watch some sports, and it sounds interesting."

Harry nodded and the conversation turned to Christmas: traditions, presents, how they would handle it this year in hiding, memories from other years and trips, and various other things about the holiday season. Lupin was sitting there listening and occasionally adding to the conversation. At first, Harry was truly interested in hearing them talk about their family and past Christmases. They all looked happy reminiscing and listening to the Christmas songs once the radio was fixed.

For a while, Harry smiled with them, trying to forget about everything else going on. But eventually, his thoughts turned to his own life.

_I've never really had a happy Christmas, or any holiday… that I can remember, at least. And now… I may never get the chance._

Harry looked away from the Grangers, a hollow feeling spreading through him.

_I will probably never have this… real holidays, presents, a family. I'm not sure I ever expected to, but now it seems so much more real that I never will._

Harry got up quietly, and walked into his bedroom. Bracing his arms on the windowsill, he looked outside. Because it was nighttime, all he could see was his own reflection. He stared at himself in the window, surrounded by darkness, and wondered what would become of him. Right now, he wasn't even sure he knew who he was…


	7. The Giving of Gifts

Well, here's the next chapter. I hope you enjoy it. Thanks for reading and all of the support!

* * *

**Chapter 7: The Giving of Gifts  
**

It was only a minute before the young witch seemed to notice his absence, her eyes searching the room, but when they passed Lupin, he smiled and stood, excusing himself for a moment. Hermione watched Remus Lupin glance briefly into the kitchen before disappearing down the hallway, continuing to Harry's current room. Peering in, he saw Harry standing at the window, his hands on the sill, gazing at his reflection. The older wizard walked over to Harry laid a hand on his shoulder; he didn't miss the slight flinch Harry gave at the contact, doubting it was from surprise given that he was reflected in the window now, too.

"I have an offer, if you want to get out of here for a bit," Lupin suggested to Harry's reflection. Harry waited for him to continue, and seeing that he had Harry's attention, he did; "I thought you might want to go out shopping. You could get some things for Christmas tomorrow and maybe some new clothes." Harry looked at him uncertainly, and Lupin added, "Unless you want to keep wearing Hermione's clothes," at this, he raised an eyebrow and nodded to Harry's shirt.

Harry's eyes lowered to his (well really, _her_) shirt reflected in the window. He could tell Lupin was trying to lighten his mood, and getting out of the house did seem like an appealing idea. Growing up, he certainly hadn't gotten out of the house much- the Dursleys hated bringing him anywhere, and the Malfoys had only let him outside occasionally on their protected property to fly or do chores or practice the more destructive spells. Nervous excitement partially pushed aside his melancholy mood as he considered something as simple as Christmas shopping.

"Alright, sure," Harry answered, finally turning around. Then suddenly, a thought struck him, "But, I don't have any money."

"Sure you do, Harry," Lupin told him in a gentle tone. "Your parents were pretty well-off, and they left almost everything to you."

"I've never been to Gringott's."

"Well, I wouldn't recommend it right now, since we are in hiding. Gringott's itself should be safe, but Diagon Alley isn't."

"Then-" Harry started, but Lupin cut him off.

"I will pick up the tab," immediately seeing signs of protest, he was quick to add, "for now. And you can pay me back later, in better times." He extended his hand and Harry hesitantly took it, feeling quite a bit better than he had a few minutes ago.

Harry pulled on a jacket Lupin had lent him as he followed him down the hallway toward the Grangers, who were now talking softer.

"I know it's late, but I'm going to take Harry out for a quick shopping trip." Lupin told him. Hermione's reply was almost instantaneous.

"Is that safe?"

"I can't promise anything, but it should be safe enough. I have to go out once and a while myself, and I've never seen anything suspicious in this area."

"Alright, just be careful," she told them, still looking unsure.

* * *

"So… where to first?" Harry asked, completely out of his element. He could count the number of times he had been shopping on one hand. The Dursleys had usually either taken turns shopping or left him with Mrs. Figg. The Malfoys had never taken him anywhere, but Snape brought him to get a wand before dumping him at the Malfoys. They hadn't agreed with his choice to take him anywhere in public, but Snape ensured that he had not been seen by anyone and countered that Harry needed a wand that obeyed him if they didn't want him blowing up the house.

"How about in here," Lupin suggested, motioning to a shop on their left. "You should be able to find some clothes you like."

Harry quickly found that he had no idea what he liked. After looking around aimlessly for some minutes, Lupin asked Harry what he might like (something comfortable and casual- pretty plain… and maybe something athletic) and steered him in the right direction.

"Don't worry," Lupin told him, "I'm not great shopping for clothes either. Since I got married, I find I don't need to worry about it as much, though- my wife buys most of my clothes, and she knows what I like."

"You're married?" Harry asked immediately, his eyes quickly drawn from the jeans in front of him to Lupin's face.

"Yes," Lupin answered as a small, perplexing smile that looked both happy and sad crept onto his face. "We were married less than a year ago. Despite my best efforts, she finally got me to tie the knot."

Harry gave him a questioning look, and the man back-tracked, seeming embarrassed.

"Not like that. It's not that I didn't want to marry her; I'm just… not the easier person to be with, especially in these dangerous times."

Not wanting to pry, but not being able to stop himself from asking something at least, he settled for what he considered a safe question.

"Wouldn't you be with her?" Harry asked, "Around Christmas, I mean?"

"Yes, I would, if I could. But it is too dangerous to travel back and forth between the two safe houses often," Lupin told him quietly. "But this isn't the time or place for this, Harry."

Getting a sense that the conversation was over, Harry returned his attention to the clothes he was supposed to be buying as best he could.

Lupin refused to let Harry look at the price tags as long as he didn't go overboard, which he seriously doubted would be a problem, since Harry was fretting over getting more than one three-pack of socks. Eventually, Harry had a whole new- though modestly sized- wardrobe: few pairs of jeans, dark gray sweatpants similar to the ones of Hermione's that he was currently wearing, a pair of scarlet and gold plaid pajama pants that Lupin had suggested because, as he had told Harry, those were the colors of his parents' House at Hogwarts, plain tees, a jacket and a sweatshirt, and various other items.

Harry felt as though they had already spent far too much, and adamantly protested going anywhere else.

"Harry, please, let me do this. I know you have been through a lot, and I wish I could have found you and helped you sooner. Your parents were like family to me. I want you to be able to give the others something, even if it is something small; it's the best part of Christmas."

"But I'd have no idea what to get them," Harry told him honestly.

"Well, I can help you out for what to get Hermione, but I don't know her parents much better than you do. Judging by her story, we met them on the same night. You can just get something universal. That's what I am going to do."

Agreeing, they went off in search of small gifts for the Grangers, minding their time and keeping an eye out for trouble.

* * *

Less than two hours, a few stores and several bags after the departed, the pair returned to Lupin's, weary from their excursion. During their outing, the Grangers had retired to their guest rooms, leaving the house calm and quiet. There was a small Christmas tree in the living room that hadn't been there when they left and Harry had a hunch Hermione's spellwork was responsible for it. Surprisingly, the tree even had a few presents tucked underneath.

Together they took the bags of clothes to Harry's room, leaving the presents in the living room. Noticing a strip of light across the hall floor coming from Hermione's bedroom, Lupin paused to inform her that they were back safely. After that, they proceeded to wrap the presents with paper they had gotten from one of the stores, which consisted mostly of Lupin teaching Harry how to wrap presents, since he never really had. Harry thought back to gifts he had received at the Malfoys; they had always been clothes or related to what he was studying, and had never been wrapped. He didn't mind the books and supplies so much, since he did like learning magic, but the clothes usually didn't suit him. Harry found that after shopping and wrapping with Lupin, he was rather excited for their improvised Christmas.

For the first time Harry could remember, he had trouble sleeping for a good reason.

* * *

The next morning, Harry found himself being enthusiastically shaken awake by an excited Hermione.

"Come on, Harry, wake up. It's Christmas!"

Harry blinked a few times, trying to fight off still feeling drowsy.

"What time is it?" Harry asked, his voice slightly hoarse from sleep.

"About six o'clock," Hermione answered. "Everyone else is up already."

"Six? Why in the name of Merlin's old-" Harry started, but Hermione cut him off.

"Oh, stop whining. I always get up early on Christmas."

Harry finally gave up, and pushed himself into a sitting position, considering Hermione as he rubbed his eyes. She was wearing a plain green sweater and pajama pants that were Christmas-colored, with white and red socks.

"Just give me a minute to change, ok?" Then he added, "And shower."

"Sure," Hermione answered, and seeing that he was more awake, told him, "Happy Christmas," before turning to leave.

Harry wished her the same and then quickly found his scarlet and gold pajama pants in a shopping bag. With it, he pulled out a new pair of boxers and socks, and a t-shirt. He took everything to the bathroom and showered quickly, some of his excitement from the night before returning now that the water washed away the rest of his dreariness. When he was finished, he walked out to the living room where a warm bowl of oatmeal was waiting for him, along with four smiling faces.

"Finally," Hermione said, exasperated, though Harry could tell she was at least partially joking.

"If we had known you were going to take a while, we could've slept in a bit longer," Mr. Granger said with a smile, following his daughter's example and teasing Harry.

"Sorry, I didn't realize- you waited for me?" Harry was genuinely surprised. He figured they would've been done opening the presents by the time he got out.

"Of course we did," Hermione said in a matter-of-fact tone that suggested it was obvious that they would have. It wasn't obvious to Harry. No one had waited for him to open presents before.

"Well, let's get started then," Lupin suggested.

* * *

Harry looked at his presents so far; Hermione had given him one of her books, called _Quidditch Through the Ages_, and a small vial of Felix Felicis, which she told him she had won in potions the previous year and taken some of, but had never found a use for the rest. Her parents had given him a picture frame they had taken from their house before they left, ensuring him that the picture that had been in it was safely sharing another frame for the time being.

They seemed to like what Harry got them, too- a few Christmas decorations which were immediately added to Lupin's living room for this year. Hermione looked like she wanted to hug him after opening his present to her, which was a small, nice-looking pouch that he had charmed to be much larger on the inside. He had tossed some useful muggle items like a first aid kit and a flashlight (just in case they were without their wands or needed light and the use of their wands for other things at the same time), with a few new muggle books that he thought looked interesting and hoped she didn't already have.

Eventually, it was Lupin's turn to give them gifts, and he started off with a disclaimer.

"I can't really take credit for these," he told them, indicating a few of the remaining presents, "some of them are other things Dumbledore left to you. Once I heard Hermione's idea about having a small Christmas celebration despite the circumstances, I thought I would save some of what he left you for today."

He handed Harry and Hermione each a small box; Harry's was square-shaped, and Hermione's was rectangular. They looked at each other before carefully opening their gifts.

"It's a snitch!" Harry exclaimed, having gotten his unwrapped first. "This is brilliant!" As he watched the snitch dart around, trying to follow it with his eyes, it was the happiest Hermione had seen him.

"There's a note with it, too," Hermione told him, pointing to a slip of paper that had fallen out of the box.

Harry picked it up, interested. It read:

_Did you know that a snitch can recognize the one who first caught it? It is a curious thing called "flesh memory" which was invented to settle disputes when the seekers fought over who got the snitch first in Quidditch matches. You might find this interesting. Hopefully you were the first to get ahold of it._

The note wasn't signed, but Harry knew it was from Dumbledore.

"I've got to catch it!" Harry said excitedly, jumping up to follow the snitch down the hallway.

The other occupants of the room shared a slightly bewildered, but amused look. Then, Hermione finished unwrapping her package.

"It looks like a cigarette lighter," Hermione's mother said, sounding surprised and a bit disapproving.

Examining it, Hermione gasped and brightened after a few moments.

"Is this a Deluminator?" she asked Lupin interestedly.

"Yes, it certainly looks like it. Dumbledore made it himself. It's one of a kind."

There were a few bangs and crashes from down the hall, but Harry shouted that he was alright. They laughed at his antics, returning their focus to Hermione's present.

Lupin handed her the note, "He left a note with this one as well."

She quickly took the note, and read:

_This is left to you in that hopes that once you are left in darkness, it can lead you to the light that may save us all._

Puzzled, Hermione read the note several times over and asked Lupin if he knew anything about what Dumbledore's note was referring to. He told her that he didn't- the only use he knew it to have was putting out lights, and then returning the light after.

"What's that?" Harry asked, returning to the living room, gently placing the snitch into his pants pocket after it had folded its golden wings.

Hermione explained the Deluminator to Harry, and let him read the note, which made no more sense to him than it did to her. The Grangers were sitting and watching quietly, intrigued but even more confused than everyone else.

"Dumbledore also left you the sword of Gryffindor, Harry, but the Ministry determined that it was property of Hogwarts and not Dumbledore's to give."

"Why would he leave that to me?" Truthfully, Harry wasn't sure why Dumbledore had left him a snitch, or Hermione a children's book, either, but a sword that was Hogwarts' property made no sense to him at all.

No one offered an answer- Lupin seemed unsure and Hermione looked deep in thought.

"I'm not sure," Lupin told him eventually, "but I have something else for you, too. This one is from me." Lupin handed Harry a soft present that was loosely wrapped.

Harry opened it and pulled out a cool, silvery sort of material that felt almost like he was holding liquid.

"Is that an invisibility cloak? They are supposed to be quite rare!" Hermione said suddenly, sounding interested and impressed. "I read about them in-" Hermione went on to quote some book, but Harry didn't catch it as he excitedly pulled the cloak out and wrapped it around himself.

The Grangers all gasped and Harry shouted, "Whoa! I'm invisible? I'm invisible!" Harry laughed; it had been a while since he'd truly been amazed by magic. He had heard of becoming invisible before, and knew a spell for it, but being able to just put on a cloak and turn invisible was awesome.

"That is amazing!" Mr. Granger exclaimed, looking at where Harry had been just seconds before.

"It truly is," Mrs. Granger said in wonder.

"It was your father's cloak. He lent it to Dumbledore before he died. And Dumbledore left it to me since I was a close friend of James. It is time it was returned to you," Lupin told him.

Harry pulled off the cloak and looked at his parents' old friend.

"Thank you," he told Lupin sincerely.

"You're welcome, Harry."

The rest of Christmas was spent relaxing and trying not to dwell on the harsh reality beyond their hideout. It was nice to get it off their minds, even if just for one day. Of course, they didn't forget, but they all did their best to try to enjoy the day.

Harry spent a while idly playing with the snitch he had received. Hermione baked cookies with her mom and read. Overall, it was a peaceful day, and Christmas dinner was better than their usual food, too.

In the evening, Harry was lounging in his guest room, when he heard someone approach his door. He looked up and waited, pocketing the picture of the witches and wizards who fought Voldemort the first time around. After a few moments, he heard a soft knock. Taking a breath, Harry tried to push thoughts of his parents and his childhood from his mind.


	8. The Impossible Journey

Here's chapter eight! I'm pretty excited about the next few after this, but I guess we will just have to wait. I don't have time to edit and upload it now, unfortunately. Thank you to everyone who read and/or reviewed so far. I hope you enjoy this chapter.

-Also, several reviewers have left questions, and for some I responded through private messages... is that how authors normally answer? Because I haven't gotten any responses. Since this is my first fanfiction, I'm not sure how it usually works. Sorry if this seems like a silly question. I know I've seen people just write messages in the beginning of their chapter (here) to specific reviewers, but I would rather not do that. I like to keep the author's notes short. Thanks.

* * *

**Chapter 8: The Impossible Journey  
**

"Come in," Harry answered to the light knock on his temporary bedroom door, not surprised to see that it was Hermione who quietly entered the room.

Harry sat up on his bed and swung his legs over the edge so that his feet were gently touching the floor.

"Hi," Hermione greeted, coming to stand a little further into the room, biting her lip and folding her arms across her chest loosely.

"Hi," Harry answered. "What's on your mind?"

"I just thought maybe we could talk. My parents are both reading in their room- the books I gave them for Christmas- and Lupin said he had something to attend to." She looked unsure, "And I thought you might like some company."

Harry offered her a half-smile and slid off of his bed and onto to floor, gesturing for her to join him.

She returned his smile as sat down on the floor in front of him.

"First, thank you so much for the present. You really didn't have to do that, and it's so much better than what I gave you. I just didn't-" Harry held up a hand to stop her, and for once, that was enough to make her pause.

"It's alright," he said simply. "And I know you think I saved you or something, but you are the one who apparated me out of there with you. If you hadn't, well… it wouldn't have been a fun time for me. And I'd still be there."

Hermione nodded, understanding what he was trying to say, but not sure how to respond. They fell silent for a moment.

"Besides," Harry added, "I should be the one thanking you. Today was great… I've never had a Christmas like this."

Seeing that Hermione was going to question him about this, he quickly said the first thing that came to mind.

"So, you grew up as a muggle, not knowing about magic until you were eleven?" Harry asked, wanting to change the focus of the conversation away from himself.

"Yes, it was quite a shock for us when we found out. I had done some magic unintentionally before, but I think my parents usually tried to explain it logically or just act like it wasn't that strange. Once, when I was pretty young, I scared my mom with a bit of accidental magic and she seemed genuinely frightened of me. I got really upset over it, and after that they never made a big deal about anything strange that happened."

Harry wasn't sure he could imagine what that would be like for a family who knew nothing of witches and wizards other than fairy tales and folklore to find out that their child could do magic. It was different for him; he was pretty sure now that his aunt and uncle had known what was going on, they had just tried to stomp the magic out of him.

"What was it like for you?" Hermione asked, "You said you lived with your aunt and uncle, right?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably, not sure what to say.

"Er, yeah… I lived with them after…" knowing she understood, he let it go without saying, "until I was ten."

"Oh, yes, you said that before," Hermione seemed to notice his hesitation in sharing, and asked questions more cautiously. "Did you not like living there?"

"Hah, not exactly," Harry answered, "But I think they might've liked me living there less."

"Why would they have not liked you living there?" Hermione asked, clearly surprised.

"Er… they don't really like anything… not normal. So to them, I was a flaw in their otherwise perfect household."

Hermione looked troubled by his words.

"But really, it wasn't so bad. It was much better than the Malfoys." He gave her a bit of a smile to try to lighten the conversation. "Plus, I learned how to cook, fix some things, clean, and do yard work- I'm pretty handy."

Hermione still seemed upset, but he could tell that she was trying not to push him on the subject.

"I'm sorry, Harry. I can't imagine what that would've been like."

"It's alright. Tell me more about when you were growing up," Harry suggested.

And for a while, Harry listened interestedly, sometimes asking questions, as she told him more about her childhood. She explained how she spent a lot of time with her parents since she was an only child, and she mostly liked to read, watch movies, and play board games for fun. And she told him how she had been sad to leave muggle school since she had wanted to learn more there, but was so excited and nervous about Hogwarts.

"Tell me about Hogwarts," Harry requested, having heard bits and pieces from Draco and knowing that his parents had gone there.

Hermione smiled at his obvious interest, and quickly got up, telling him that she would be right back. Without waiting for him to respond, she quickly left the room. Less than a minute later, she returned, carrying a book Harry thought he had seen her reading once or twice since they had been at Lupin's.

"This is _Hogwarts: A History_," she said, sitting down next to him this time, so he could see the book as well. "It's a book all about Hogwarts- I read it before I first went there a few times so I would know what to expect." She started searching through the table of contents.

"You read it a few times before you went?" Harry muttered under his breath, looking at the size of the book, but not really doubting what she said.

"What would you like to know?" she asked, showing him the table of contents.

The way she explained everything had Harry enthralled by the magical and wondrous school that was Hogwarts- filled with mystery, knowledge, all sorts of witches and wizards, secret passages, magical creatures, and four houses, each of which had Quidditch teams. She told him about everything: the professors, the classes, the groundskeeper, Hagrid, the Black Lake, the Forbidden Forest, and the new Headmistress, Professor McGonagall, who had been a sort of mentor and role model for Hermione for years.

Then she told him about how she had been so excited when she was picked as Head Girl for her seventh year. Harry was really amused and entertained listening to her talk about herself and Hogwarts. He wasn't used to conversations like this, and he had never seen her so animated and interested in what she was talking about.

"At first, I wasn't sure if…" she trailed off, noticing the look on Harry's face. "What?" she asked. "Why are you looking at me like that…? Am I talking too much?"

"No, no, you're fine," Harry assured her hurriedly. He smiled again, "It's fun listening to you talk about Hogwarts- I almost feel like I've been there."

Hermione looked uncertain at first, but then smiled and accepted his praise for her storytelling.

"Well, it's getting late; we should probably get to sleep," Hermione told him. She shifted away from his side, which neither of them had realized until then that she had gotten so close to, picked up her book, and stood.

Harry got up, too. He wanted to say something, but found that he wasn't sure what, so he settled for standing there and waiting for her to speak.

"Thank you," Hermione said.

Surprised, Harry responded, "You're welcome," without really knowing what she was thanking him for.

They said goodnight, and Hermione left to go to her room next door, while Harry flopped back onto his bed. For quite a while, Harry laid there and thought about everything Hermione had told him, about herself and Hogwarts- it was so much information, and he wanted to remember all of it. He could almost picture Hogwarts, an enormous stone-gray castle surrounded by grounds of green grass which led to a vast forest filled with monsters and creatures he had only read about, and a huge Quidditch pitch, decorated with the house colors on match days, a vast lake, and a road that led to Hogsmeade village.

He could also see a young Hermione, poring over volumes of books, trying to learn everything she could before leaving behind the world she knew and venturing off to a magical place full of strangers. The way she described her experiences, before and during Hogwarts, made him feel as though he understood what she had seen and had been thinking at the time, which was a foreign awareness for Harry; it wasn't like he had much insight into the minds of the Dursleys or Death Eaters that he could actually make sense of or relate to. With Hermione, though, he could empathize with some of what she had told him, and he found it very curious and different.

Eventually, Harry fell asleep, his thoughts still on the girl who had saved his life as much as he had saved hers.

* * *

The next day was relatively uneventful, though Harry found his mind completely cluttered. It seemed to be split between remembering the conversation from the night before and wondering what it would be like if he had gone to Hogwarts or met Hermione sooner, and the things he had learned from Dumbledore's memories. Thoughts of Horcruxes and the responsibility of saving the entire wizarding world kept creeping into his consciousness. As much as he wanted to avoid it and push it away and pretend it didn't exist, he couldn't for more than a few minutes at a time.

Harry was sitting in the living room with _Quidditch Through the Ages_, which he had been planning to read, having such problems. After reading about the Ballycastle Bats of Northern Ireland for the second time, whisperings of dark magic began to slither back into his thoughts. His scar started to hurt then, and he gave up on really concentrating on the book, barely taking in a thing as his eyes scanned the description of the Chudley Cannons further down the page.

Not long after, Hermione walked into the room, _The Tales of Beedle the Bard _in one hand. Harry glanced up at her when she came in, but then went back to reading the book she had given him, which was now no more than a pretense. Even looking through her own book, it didn't take Hermione long to realize that Harry wasn't really reading.

"Is something on your mind, Harry?" Hermione asked, looking up from her book.

"Oh, yeah, just… the things from Dumbledore's memories," Harry told her, deciding he might as well be honest.

"Would you like to talk about it?" Hermione tried not to seem too eager or interested, with minimal success.

Harry hesitated- did he really want to tell her everything in the memories Dumbledore left for him? Did he want to tell her about Voldemort and the Horcruxes… his destiny?

"Not really," he answered finally. "It's… personal." He looked down, not meeting her eyes.

Hermione shifted, leaning closer to where Harry was sitting.

"Harry, it seems serious… you shouldn't just keep something like that to yourself. Please, tell me. Let me help you figure it out." When Harry didn't respond, she added, "Trust me."

Harry looked up and met her eyes, seeing concern in them.

"Tonight?" Harry asked quietly as Hermione's mother walked in from the kitchen, carrying some sort of snack.

Hermione gave a slight nod, and Harry noticed that when she went back to her book, she didn't seem nearly as focused as usual.

* * *

Hermione sat on the floor, leaning back against the side of Harry's bed. She looked thoroughly shell-shocked. Harry could relate- he must've looked similar when he landed back in the chair after diving into Dumbledore's memories. Silently hoping he made the right decision by telling her, Harry shifted a bit closer to her.

"Hermione?" he asked quietly.

"So… let me get this straight," Hermione said, looking frazzled, "your mother's love protected you from the Killing Curse and you survived with just that scar, your wand and Voldemort's are brothers and may form some kind of link should they ever duel, there is a prophecy about you that basically says that you will either kill Voldemort or he will kill you, and Voldemort split his soul into seven pieces called Horcruxes in order to keep himself alive, which you now have to destroy if there is any hope for the wizarding world?"

Harry thought for a moment before agreeing, "That about sums it up, I guess."

They fell silent, and Harry could tell Hermione was trying to connect and make sense of everything.

"So the prophecy was originally told to Dumbledore? And then Voldemort found out about it, and that was why he tried to kill you? How much of it does Voldemort know?" she asked Harry.

"I'm not sure… but I know he doesn't know the whole thing." Harry was looking down, and something was different about his tone.

"What is it?"

"I- nothing… it's nothing," Harry answered, still staring at the ground.

Hermione could tell there was more to it, but she decided to let it go; she didn't want to push Harry to share too much and have him shut her out.

"Are you alright? How can he just drop all that on you at once?" Hermione asked indignantly, getting the subject back on the memories Dumbledore left for Harry. "It's a wonder you aren't an absolute wreck right now!" she stopped, clearly waiting for him to answer her previous question.

"I honestly don't know…" Harry answered in a low voice.

"Oh, Harry, it's going to be alright," Hermione hastily tried to reassure him, laying her hand on his arm. "Whatever it is, we can sort it out."

"We?" the word slipped out before Harry could stop it.

"Of course, I have been trying to help stop Voldemort for a while now, and I'm certainly not going to leave you to do this on your own!" Hermione told him forcefully.

Harry all but gaped at her- of the possible reactions he had anticipated, this was not one of them.

"Harry, think about it. Voldemort is trying to take over the entire wizarding world. If he regains power, it will be awful for everyone, especially muggle-borns and muggles. I knew there was a good chance I would be targeted, even more so once I started helping Dumbledore and the Order, but I didn't want to just sit by and watch it happen; I had to do something."

Harry just stared at her for a bit, astounded by the determination he saw in her eyes. A small smile crept onto his face.

"I can see why you're in Gryffindor," he told her truthfully.

She blushed, thrown off by his statement, before continuing.

"Harry, there's no way you can do this all on your own. Let me help you. I can't believe Dumbledore just left you this responsibility to save the world all by yourself!"

"Actually… Dumbledore said I should get help," he hesitated, "but only if there was someone I completely trusted." Quickly, Harry added, "I don't think I trust anyone like that, but… well… you're the closest I've got right now. And Dumbledore trusted you." In a somewhat darker tone, he muttered, "Though I expect Dumbledore must've been at least halfway off his rocker, leaving the fate of the wizarding world on the shoulders of someone who hadn't been seen in years." Harry shook his head.

"Dumbledore didn't always make sense, but he was definitely a smart man," Hermione told him honestly. "He wouldn't have left this task to you if he didn't believe that you were still alive and could handle it."

"Hah!" Harry fake laughed, "yeah, and all he leaves me to help with this nearly impossible task is a snitch, and a sword that I can't even get!" Harry's counter came out a bit harsher than he had intended.

"Of course," Hermione exclaimed suddenly, "the things he left you must have something to do with finding and destroying the Horcruxes!" Harry was partially amazed that she was able to contain her outburst to a whisper. "He left you the sword- maybe that is a Horcrux, or can be used to destroy them! And the snitch… hmm… oh!" she exclaimed, suddenly, "Dumbledore's note- did you catch it?"

"Err… yeah," Harry told her, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably.

"And the second time you touched it, did anything happen?" she looked excited.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"The flesh memory- if you were the first one to catch it, then the next time it was touched by your hand, I thought something might have happened, since Dumbledore's note mentioned flesh memories."

"Well…" Harry hesitated and Hermione noticed how his face reddened.

"What is it, Harry?" she asked him in a curious tone.

"I think, the first time I caught it, I sort of… almost swallowed it," Harry admitted.

"What?" Hermione asked incredulously.

"I was running after it, and it went into your room, and, well, I tripped over a stack of your books and yelled… and somehow it ended up in my mouth." Harry looked at her with an embarrassed smile.

"Well then, did you, um, put it against your mouth again, after?" she asked him uncertainly.

"No," Harry told her, "…should I?"

She nodded and he tried it, awkwardly touching his lips to the snitch, glancing at her as he did so. To his surprise, words appeared on it as inspected it afterward.

"'I open at the close'?" Hermione read aloud. It was clear from her tone that she didn't understand it, and Harry assured her that he didn't either.

The words looked engraved into the snitch, but after about a minute, they faded and the snitch looked exactly as it had before.

"'I open at the close.' I don't remember reading that phrase anywhere. The close… maybe I can find something in…" and she trailed off, speaking quietly to herself now.

All Harry could do was watch as she tried to figure things out and organize her thoughts.

"Hermione? Er, Hermione?" Harry asked, and eventually she looked back up to him.

"Sorry," she apologized, focusing on him again. "So, what are you going to do?" she asked.

"Well… go try to find these Horcruxes, I guess," Harry answered.

"Do you even know where to look or what you're looking for?"

"Err… not exactly, but Dumbledore did have suggestions on what the remaining Horcruxes might be in his memories." Harry looked hopeful that she would accept this, but to no avail.

"You can't just go off and try to find something with no idea where to go!"

"Well what do you suggest, then?"

"Ugh, I don't know! It's not like he left me- wait, maybe there's something useful in what he left me, too!"

"In a children's book or a light collector…? I doubt it." Harry told her.

She insisted on getting the book anyway, though, and after flipping through it with her for a while, Harry noticed something odd.

"Hey, what's that?" Harry asked, pointed to a symbol in the book. "It looks like it was inked in."

Hermione moved to inspect the book more closely.

"It does! I can't believe I didn't notice it before! I was so focused on finding some hidden meaning in the stories that I didn't really pay attention to the pictures."

"I don't think I've ever seen it anywhere," Harry told her.

It was a triangle with a line dividing in down the middle, with a circle inscribed in the middle.

"Ohhh… I feel like I _have_ seen it, but I don't have any idea where!" Hermione groaned impatiently. "Maybe it's in one of my other books," she said as she got up and made to leave.

"Wait," Harry caught her arm, standing up too, "let's just sleep on it for tonight. We can talk about it again in the morning and try to figure it out tomorrow, okay?"

She hesitated, clearly wanting to skim through her whole library of books in search of the symbol right now even if it kept them up all night. But seeing how tired he looked, she relented.

* * *

Early the next morning, Harry was awoken by an excited Hermione. "I know where I've seen that symbol!" she told him as soon as she thought he was conscious enough to understand her. "My friend Luna Lovegood's dad was wearing it on a chain as a necklace! I saw it when he came to pick her up for the holidays. He must know what the symbol means!"

"Brilliant," Harry mumbled, ready to roll over and fall back to sleep, but Hermione was having none of that.

"Honestly, Harry, wake up. This is important; we might actually have an idea of where to go!"

Harry propped himself up on his elbow, completely facing her now.

"And where is that?" he asked, his voice considerably more awake now.

"To the Lovegood's house."


	9. Breaking Bonds

Okay, the next chapter is here. Hope you like it and thanks for everyone who is continuing to read and support this story!

* * *

**Chapter 9: Breaking Bonds  
**

Harry stood there looking around, feeling out of place on the odd doorstep of the Lovegoods' house. While they were packing to leave, Hermione had warned him that her friend, Luna, was a bit strange. Harry remembered what Hermione had told him:

"_We didn't really get along at first, because we were so different, but after a while, we realized that we actually had a lot in common. I never had many friends growing up, and neither did she. I guess we both felt like loners who people judged before they got to know them."_

"I do feel bad leaving Crookshanks with my parents," Hermione commented as they waited.

Harry nodded and heard movement inside the house.

The man who answered the door looked rather odd, too, in Harry's opinion, but he wasn't one to judge.

"H-hello?" the man asked nervously.

"Hello, Mr. Lovegood. I'm Hermione, Luna's friend, and this is Harry. Sorry to drop by so suddenly, but we wanted to ask you something. Is Luna in?" Hermione asked him. At the mention of their names, however, he seemed to become even shakier.

"No, no, Luna is… out," he told them in an unsteady voice. "But you may come in; if there is something you wanted to ask me."

He led them into the house and made them tea, or at least he tried to- with the amount he spilled from trembling, Harry doubted much made it into the cups. The man's behavior made Harry feel incredibly uneasy.

_Something isn't right here. This guy looks like a mess- like he's afraid of his own shadow or something. What happened? And where is Luna, just after Christmas when she should be home for the holidays? I doubt they would be back at Hogwarts yet, and Hermione said she didn't have many friends._

"Thank you," Hermione said, accepting the small cup of tea.

Harry tried to catch her eye, and he gave her a look. He was pretty sure she understood not to drink the tea, just in case, because something didn't seem right.

After faking drinking some of the tea (at least, Harry hoped she was faking it too), Hermione pulled out the book Dumbledore left her.

"Mr. Lovegood, I was wondering if you knew what this symbol stood for. Could you tell us? I remembered seeing it on a necklace you wore when you came to pick Luna up from the station for the holiday this year."

Mr. Lovegood explained that it was the symbol of the Deathly Hallows. The Deathly Hallows were three magical items in a story in the book about three brothers that most people believed to be just a legend. Some people, however, believed that these items actually existed. Believers wore the symbol in the hope of finding others who also sought the Deathly Hallows. Hermione read the story of the three brothers aloud, since Harry did not know it.

In the story, the bothers had cheated death with their magic. Death, angered by this, had appeared before them. He congratulated them and offered them each a reward. The eldest brother arrogantly wished for a powerful wand that could not be beaten, the Elder Wand. The middle brother, who had lost his wife, asked for a way to see her and be with his deceased loved one, and received the Resurrection Stone. The youngest brother, humble and wise, wished for the Cloak of Invisibility that would never fade and with which he could not be found, even by Death. According to the legend, if someone possessed all three items, they would become the master of death.

"Do you think Voldemort believes they are real? Do you think he's after them?" Harry asked Hermione as soon as she finished reading. He heard Mr. Lovegood gasp when he used the dark wizard's name.

"Harry, this is a children's story… surely it is just a fantasy," Hermione told him skeptically.

"I assure you, Miss Granger, there are those who believe in their existence, even today," Mr. Lovegood said in an ominous voice. "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would be wise to fear one who possessed all three and thus became the master of death."

"Dumbledore couldn't possibly have thought that Death himself showed up and handed out these gifts to the brothers for cheating him with magic." She looked irritated at the suggestion that this was fact and could be relied on to defeat Voldemort.

"I'm not saying it's a good way to beat him, but doesn't that sound like something Voldemort would want, if it was true- to master death?"

"I don't know, Harry. It's possible," Hermione answered, looking worried, but far from convinced.

Silence fell one the group for a short time, but Mr. Lovegood spoke.

"If- if you will excuse me for a moment," he said in an unsteady voice, shakily standing and going upstairs.

Harry wasted no time in leaning over closer to Hermione to whisper.

"Let's get out of here. Something doesn't feel right. You didn't drink the tea, did you?"

"No," Hermione answered, talking quickly and quietly, "I didn't drink the tea. I could tell you didn't think we should. But I don't know if we should just leave… What if something has happened to Luna?"

"I don't-" Harry stopped suddenly, noticing Mr. Lovegood returning. When he came down, he looked much worse than he had a few minutes ago.

Harry stood. Hermione still looked uncertain, but hesitantly got up, too.

"Thank you, Mr. Lovegood. But I really think we should be leaving now."

"No!" the older man said far too quickly. "You must stay a bit longer. Surely you had… more questions."

He looked downright desperate to keep them there; it made Harry all the more desperate to leave.

"Is something wrong, Mr. Lovegood?" Hermione asked, pleadingly, not wanting to leave him or her friend in trouble, but sensing the danger in staying. "Did something happen? Where is Luna?"

"Hermione, we have to go. Now," Harry told her, grabbing her arm firmly as pain surged through his scar. Hermione looked at him in concern, but Mr. Lovegood addressed them solemnly, directing their attention back to him.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Potter, Miss Granger," he nodded to each of them in turn, looking terrified. "I- I had to do it. They… took my Luna. She's all I have."

He raised his wand toward them suddenly, and cast a stunning spell in their direction.

Thankfully, he wasn't quick enough, and Harry managed to dodge the spell while pushing Hermione out of the way, too.

"Expelliarmus!" Harry shouted, causing the man's wand to fly out of his hand and across the room.

Hermione quickly cast a stunning spell on Mr. Lovegood, and walked over to his still body.

"Obliviate," Hermione said, pointing her wand at him and erasing part of his memory.

Dark spots were dancing in front of Harry's eyes, and he blinked, trying to fight them off.

"Hermione…" Harry called to her, bracing a hand on the table next to him as his scar flooded with pain again.

She was at his side in a second, holding his arm to steady him.

"Harry, are you alright? What's wrong?" she asked him in a worried voice, putting her other hand on his back.

Before he had time to respond, there was a great crash as one of the windows upstairs shattered. Harry and Hermione drew their wands but within seconds the whole house was a chaotic whirlwind of broken glass, flying dishes, and black wispy shadows. The noise of all the crashing objects, smashing windows, and rushing wind filled Harry's ears and his head as he felt his wand slip from his hand. He tried to call out to Hermione, but he felt something slam into his head and darkness spread across his eyes until all he could see was black.

* * *

A piercing scream.

A flash of green light.

Darkness.

Then another scream reached him, muffled and different, off in the distance.

As the fog gradually lifted from his mind, the noise grew louder and closer until it was right next to him. The terrible cry faded and he opened his eyes to a sight he had hoped he would never see again. He was back in Malfoy Manor- back in the same room he had escaped from not long ago. Though to Harry, it felt like a lifetime…

_Hermione._

He forced his head to the right slightly and saw her profile, bound next to him against the wall.

"Oh, the boy wakes," he heard a high-pitched laugh as a cold voice spoke. The voice sent chills up Harry's spine. The menacing, cruel tone of amusement, and the hiss that was just barely noticeable in every word- he immediately knew who was speaking, even before his head gave a painful throb.

_Voldemort._

Harry felt his bindings, which he had hardly been aware of, release him and he staggered forward, struggling to stay on his feet as pain seared through his scar.

"Hello, Harry Potter," the Dark Lord's voice slithered through the air to reach Harry. "Did you think you could defy me, after everything I have done for you, Harry, after all we have taught you? You are so close to being one of us; don't give up now. Being the merciful lord I am, I will allow you to rejoin me, but first, you must beg for forgiveness."

"Yes, beg, little boy!" he heard Bellatrix demand in her high, insane voice.

Harry's eyes were locked on Voldemort's and he found that he couldn't speak at all. But standing his ground silently spoke volumes.

"You dare to defy me, Harry?" Harry could hear anger laced in his words now; there was a dangerous annoyance in his tone and his face.

"You will do as I say, and kneel down and beg for my forgiveness," Voldemort told him, sneering in satisfaction, some of the anger gone.

They both knew he could force Harry to do it by magic, to bow down to him, but he wasn't. The evil wizard's eyes flickered to Hermione and a smirk formed on his thin lips. Harry felt his stomach drop. There was so much tension in his body that he was trembling.

"You wouldn't want anything to happen to the Mudblood you went through all this trouble to save, would you, Harry?" he asked, slowly. "Bow to me! Beg for the forgiveness of your master!"

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Bellatrix move closer to Hermione, her knife held out toward the girl threateningly.

Swallowing his pride and anger, Harry took a shaky step forward and slowly knelt down, his eyes staring at the floor in front of his knees.

"Beg." Voldemort's command was intimidating and uncompromising.

Harry struggled to find his voice. In response to his silence, he heard a gasp followed by a strangled cry of pain. To his horror, Harry could still vividly picture Hermione's tortured face and pleading eyes from the last time they were in this room.

"I-" Harry could feel his heart pounding so hard he hear it in his ears as he pushed the words out, "I am sorry… please forgive me, Master."

Bellatrix cackled and he could hear the laughter of a few others in the room as well. Glancing up, Harry noticed the Malfoys and Snape standing off to the side watching, along with two or three other Death Eaters.

"Very good, Harry," Voldemort told him. "Now, your wand."

Harry could feel Voldemort's hand extend toward him without even looking up. It took him all of a second to realize that they probably hadn't bothered to take their wands yet because they needn't have worried about it- the others all had wands in their hands, and in the case of Bellatrix, a knife in the other. Harry and Hermione didn't have a chance, even if they had somehow gotten their wands out.

"No!" he heard Hermione get out before Bellatrix silenced her again.

He had no choice. Shaking, Harry handed over his wand, still refusing to look up at the man who killed his parents.

Seconds later, Harry heard a sickening crack. His wand fell to the ground in front of him in two pieces. He felt some of his fear and anger replaced by dread and overwhelming helplessness. His wand, the brother of Voldemort's, was gone, broken. Hermione was trapped and at the mercy of Bellatrix, which Harry knew didn't really exist. And he was kneeling before the man who had killed his parents, defenseless.

"And, for your disobedience- Crucio!"

Instantly, pain exploded throughout Harry's body and he had to hold himself up with his hands as he fought not to give in to the urge to scream. Fire seared across his skin and tried to rip his muscles apart.

"Stop!" Hermione's voice called out.

An instant later, the immediate pain Harry felt subsided.

"You dare interrupt the Dark Lord, you filthy Mudblood?!" Bellatrix screeched maniacally.

"Do not waste your breath on her, Bellatrix," Voldemort instructed, as he raised his wand to point directly at Hermione. Harry was still reeling from the Unforgiveable Curse, but the tone of Voldemort's voice made him look up. He froze at the sight of the thin, pale wand pointed at Hermione.

"Avada…" the instant Harry heard the first whisper of a sound, he used all of his remaining strength to jump in front of Hermione. He noticed her eyes widen just as he moved to shield her body with his.

Eyes squeezed shut and with his back to Voldemort, Harry had no idea what happened next.

"Kad-" suddenly the Dark Lord's voice cut off sending a shock through every human in the room. Crash!

"You shall not harm Harry Potter!"

For a moment, everything was silent; it seemed everyone was too stunned to move.

The next moment, smoke filled the room along with several shouts and screams. Harry felt a small hand with long, thin bony fingers grab his. He wrapped his other arm tightly around Hermione, whose bondages had disappeared, and pulled her to him.

A second later, he felt a tug, heard a quiet pop, and everything in the room was gone.


	10. An Unlikely Ally

**Chapter 10**

When the darkness faded, Harry found that he was still holding Hermione to him securely. His heart was still pounding and he felt a little light-headed and disoriented. Taking a breath to try to calm himself and sort out what had just happened in his mind, he closed his eyes.

Feeling Hermione shift and wrap her arms around him tightly, Harry tensed. In response, she moved closer, burying her face against the crook of his neck. Eventually, some of the tension left Harry, and they stood there like that for a minute, holding on to each other trying to steady themselves from the horrible whirlwind of events. Slowly, they loosened their grips and pulled back enough to look at each other. Before Harry could try to identify the emotions in the witch's brown eyes, a familiar voice interrupted him.

"Harry Potter, sir, you is alright?"

At the sound, Harry and Hermione both quickly let go and turned to find its owner.

"Dobby!" Harry exclaimed, looking at the small elf fondly. "You saved us! How did you know where we were? How did you know I was in trouble?"

"Dobby has his ways, sir," the elf answered mysteriously, before adding, "And Harry Potter is always in some sorts of danger, sir."

Dobby smiled at his comment, and Harry couldn't help but smile, too.

"But, Dobby, I made you swear not to come back for me while I was at the Malfoys. You said you wouldn't break your word," Harry told him anxiously.

"But Dobby didn't break his word, sir," the house elf answered immediately, "Dobby promised not to come back for Harry Potter while he was still captive at the Malfoys, sir, but you escaped! Dobby heard, sir. Dobby has been listening for news of his Harry Potter and he was so happy to hear he too was free."

Harry nodded, and waited for the elf to continue, while Hermione stood there trying to make sense of the situation.

"So then Dobby is waiting to go and see you, sir, and just today he gets allowed to go. The new Headmistress was most busy, but Dobby heard her mention Harry Potter one day and he knew he must find you, sir. So he asked to leave for the day. Dobby gets one day a month off now, thanks to you, sir. Dobby has never met such kind witches and wizards."

"The new Headmistress?" Hermione asked, joining the conversation for the first time, "Do you mean at Hogwarts?"

"Why yes, miss, Dobby has been living and working at Hogwarts since before Professor Dumbledore…" Dobby trailed off, his large, bright-green eyes glistening with tears. He took a few breaths to compose himself before he continued. "Professor Dumbledore hires Dobby after he was freed. Dobby is getting paid a Galleon a month now, sir."

"You're getting paid? Oh, that's wonderful!" Hermione exclaimed. "Only one Galleon a month, though?" she added uncertainly. "Surely you deserve more than that."

"Oh, no, miss. Dobby is asking for only one a month. Professor Dumbledore was wanting to pay Dobby ten Galleons a month and give him weekends off, but Dobby likes the work, miss... he is happy to be a free elf and work at Hogwarts."

"You've been living at Hogwarts and getting paid?" Harry asked disbelievingly. "That's brilliant, Dobby!" he told him enthusiastically.

Hermione studied Harry with interest, having never seen him quite so happy, or so fond of anyone.

Dobby seemed to be a little embarrassed by the wizard's praise, and paused before continuing.

"Thank you, Harry Potter, sir… it is all thanks to you, anyway, sir," with this, Dobby bowed to Harry.

Harry quickly flushed, but didn't know what to say.

"So when Dobby asked for the day off, he was coming to see you, sir. And he wasn't sure where you were… but house elves can appear wherever they are needed for their masters, and friends."

Harry and Dobby shared a smile. He had never really thought of Dobby as a "friend" before, but the description seemed to fit.

"Dobby got quite a shock when he appeared there, sir… quite a shock indeed."

With his story finished, Dobby gave a light sigh and looked up at Harry.

"Well, it's a good thing you came when you did, Dobby," Harry told him gratefully. "I was a goner for sure."

"Dobby does not need thanks, sir. You is saving Dobby more than Dobby is saving you, Harry Potter. But Dobby must go now. He will return soon. Harry Potter and his miss must not go anywhere until he returns, sir. It is not safe."

Harry and Hermione both felt their faces heat up as the elf referred to her as "his miss".

"Oh, err… Dobby, this is Hermione," Harry told him, awkwardly unsure of how exactly to introduce her. "She helped me escape from the Malfoys and, well, saved my life."

"You were the one who saved me," Hermione protested quietly, not wanting to interrupt him, but feeling the need to correct his assessment.

"Right," Harry acknowledged, "and Hermione, this is Dobby. He was serving the Malfoys when I was taken there, and we helped each other out and… became friends."

Hermione looked at Harry with an expression he couldn't read before addressing Dobby.

"Hello, Dobby. It is very nice to meet you. Thank you so much for saving us," she leaned down to shake his hand.

"Oh," Dobby choked back a sob at her offered hand, "Harry Potter is such a noble wizard. He makes friends with kindness almost as great as his own."

Dobby gently took her hand and shook it, looking at her in awe.

"Oh, come off it, Dobby," Harry scoffed. "What've I told you about all this 'Harry Potter is great' rubbish?" Harry looked thoroughly embarrassed, and Hermione had to hold back her laughter. "And I definitely remember telling you not to call me 'sir'."

"Dobby is sorry, si- Harry Potter," Dobby at least had the decency to look guilty, but gave Harry a sheepish smile.

"But now Dobby must go. Harry Potter and Miss Hermione must not move from this spot. Dobby will return as quick as he can, sir." Dobby winced for a second after the customary "sir" left his mouth, but said nothing else.

"Okay, Dobby," Harry told him, "we won't go anywhere until you come back. Just don't take too long, alright?"

"Wait," Hermione interrupted, looking stricken all of a sudden. "Dobby, do you know if there was anyone else at Malfoy Manor? In the dungeons, maybe?" she asked in a worried tone.

"Dobby does not know, miss. Dobby there only for a minute and was only seeing Harry Potter, his miss, and the bad people."

"Dobby…" Hermione hesitated, biting her lip.

"Go on," Harry urged her, pretty sure he knew what she was going to ask.

"Dobby, do you think you could… go back to Malfoy Manor and see if one of my friends in down there?" Hermione asked, obviously feeling bad about asking for such a favor. "Her name is Luna. She was at Hogwarts with me. The Death Eaters kidnapped her, and I think that's where they've taken her."

The elf didn't look too keen on the idea of going back to his former home now that Harry was safely out of it.

"Please, Dobby," Harry requested. "I wouldn't be here without Hermione. I know you don't want to go back there, but could you help her out?"

"And maybe get out anyone else you can, too, while you're at it," Harry added, wagering that less prisoners at the Malfoys couldn't be a bad thing.

With a new determination, Dobby nodded and with a poof, he vanished.

"Thank you," Hermione told Harry gratefully, who simply nodded.

For a moment, Harry looked around the cave Dobby had taken them to, not sure what to say, when Hermione broke the silence.

"You're full of surprises, aren't you?" she asked him, curiously.

"What do you mean?" Harry questioned, sitting down and leaning back against the wall of the cave.

Hermione moved to sit next to him, clarifying, "You being friends with a house elf, I mean. And you set him free, didn't you?"

"Yeah," Harry answered, glancing at her. Seeing that she seemed to be waiting for him to continue, he explained.

"He was the Malfoys' house elf- you can imagine how they treated him. It was awful. He was punishing himself all the time, and sometimes they would add on punishments or hit him," Harry told her in a low voice.

"That's horrible!" Hermione said, visibly angered on the elf's behalf.

"Yeah," Harry continued, looking at the floor of the cave, "when I got there, Dobby was told to make sure I didn't get into trouble and he brought me food, at first. Over time, we became, sort of like friends, I guess. I'm not really sure how, but I suppose we were kind of in the same boat, you know? We would try to keep each other out of trouble, and we talked when we got a chance. Sometimes I would help him with his chores, and we would warn each other when people were coming to visit or if someone was in a particularly bad mood." Harry shrugged, "It wasn't like we had much time together, but he was the closest thing I ever had to a friend, growing up."

"And you set him free?" Hermione asked in a gentle voice. Harry could tell her had her full attention and she seemed genuinely interested in his story.

"Yeah," Harry gave a light laugh, remembering the day. "Mr. Malfoy had given him a really harsh punishment after he covered for me for something, and I just couldn't stand it anymore… I stuck a sock under Dobby's little bowl of food on his tray before the Malfoys gave it to him the next day and he was free. He tried to defend me when they found out but I knew he was no match for them when he didn't have the element of surprise. I made him promise not to come back for me while I was still held captive there, and eventually he agreed. I don't think he wanted to, but he did."

"Why didn't he just tell Dumbledore where you were?" Hermione asked.

"He couldn't," Harry answered. "The Malfoys had sworn him to secrecy before, and I knew they would kill him if he did somehow tell someone, or they would just move me somewhere else." Harry shook his head, "So I made him promise not to tell anyone that, either."

Harry took his snitch out of his pocket and watched it slowly spread and stretch its wings, fluttering them gently. He could feel Hermione watching him, but he wasn't sure what else to say.

"I started a group to promote the proper treatment of house elves while I was at Hogwarts," Hermione told him.

"You did?" Harry asked.

"Yes. It is called S.P.E.W., which stands for the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare. I saw how badly house elves were treated at the Quidditch World Cup a few years ago and started the group shortly after."

Harry looked ready to burst and the second she stopped speaking, Harry asked, "You went to the Quidditch World Cup?! I thought you said before that you didn't even like Quidditch much?"

"It's not that I don't like Quidditch, it just usually wasn't that interesting to watch since I didn't really know anyone on the team. A friend of mine, Ginny, asked me to go with her family when they got tickets since I spent part of the summer at her house. My parents went on vacation until a week after term started and I stayed with her family at the end of summer," she explained. "And once Ginny made the house team at Hogwarts, I went to more of the matches."

Harry nodded, seeming to accept that, and returned the snitch to his pocket.

"So, what does S.P.E.W. do?" he asked.

"Well… we don't really _do _that much yet; we haven't gotten much support. But I hope to get more rights for house elves, like what Dobby has- wages and holidays- and improve their treatment by witches and wizards overall."

"That sounds like a great idea," Harry told her honestly. She brightened until he added, "But, I'm not sure about the wording… it spells 'spew', you know."

"It is S.P.E.W., but yes, I am aware that is spells 'spew'. Ginny's brother Ron made sure I knew when we tried to get him to join," she huffed, and Harry could tell that she seemed annoyed.

"Oh… that's alright then. I still think it's a good idea," Harry told her, trying to cheer her up. "Would it be alright if I joined?"

"Well, we aren't really active right now, with everything going on, but…" she trailed off, realizing that he was smiling slightly and had suggested it as more of a supportive gesture. "Oh, sure. Yes, I would like that," she told him, looking a little embarrassed.

Before they could discuss it any further, they heard voices coming from the entrance of the cave. At first, they both tensed, and Hermione grabbed her wand, while Harry reached for his, before realizing it wouldn't be there. Soon, they heard Dobby's high-pitched voice and relaxed somewhat, still waiting with their eyes trained on the curve in the cave a few feet from them.

Harry was shocked to see who turned the corner next to his small friend.


	11. Pitch Black

The next chapter is up. I hope I did the characters justice and explained everything well enough! Thank you to everyone reading and supporting the story!

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**Chapter 11: Pitch Black  
**

From around the corner of the cave walked a man from the picture Lupin had given Harry of the Order when they had fought Voldemort the first time. He was speaking with Dobby animatedly. The only reason Harry even remembered him was that he had been standing right near his parents in the picture. Harry stood up, and the man let out a bark-like laugh when he spotted him.

"Merlin, elf, you weren't joking," the man smiled and approached Harry. "I was afraid they'd get me before you turned up. You look so much like James..."

Harry felt unsure of himself, looking at the man before him whose name he didn't even know. Hermione moved to stand next to Harry.

"Hermione, right?" the man asked her. "I think I've seen you around Headquarters once or twice."

"Yes, good to see you are alright, Sirius," Hermione said before turning to Harry.

"Harry, this is Sirius Black." At the name, Harry flinched, looking like he had been slapped.

"I see my name precedes me," the man said in response to Harry reaction. "Whatever you heard is probably a bunch of-" sensing foul language coming, Hermione cut in.

"He isn't what most people believe him to be," she said, smartly, shooting Sirius a disapproving look.

"No," Harry said, "No, I know. He didn't kill anyone- Wormtail did. He came around the Malfoys sometimes, but they wouldn't let him stay there."

"The Malfoys'?!" Sirius barked. "The elf said you had been held captive at the Malfoys- he told me just now- but I didn't believe it."

"Dobby does not lie, Master Sirius!" Dobby piped.

"Well, it's true. The Malfoys kept me there and once Vo-" Harry was cut off as Sirius dove at him and covered his mouth with a hand.

"You can't say his name," Sirius told them quickly. "They have some sort of spell on it now. I don't know when they started- it must have only been a day or two or I'd have been caught, too. They got some of us with it already, though. Whenever that name is spoken, the Death Eaters get alerted somehow and pop up within minutes."

Harry and Hermione shared a look- they were going to have to be careful seeing as they both used the name frequently.

For a while, Harry once again explained what had happened to him, using as little detail as possible. At the end, Sirius seemed so outraged that Harry thought he might just go fight the Malfoys himself. He seemed proud that Harry had chosen to save Hermione though, and had laughed out loud when he told him about shoving Bellatrix, saying that maybe it would knock the last few screws out of his deranged cousin's head.

They talked for a while afterward, a lot of the time filled with Sirius telling tales of him and James, and sometimes Lupin, from their younger days as "marauders".

James and Sirius had been best friends growing up, and had befriended Lupin, and regrettably, Wormtail later. He told them how they had formed the Marauders, and become animagi to help Lupin with his "problem". Lupin was a werewolf (Sirius assured Hermione that Remus would find a safe place for her parents before the next full moon), Sirius became a black dog which he showed them, and James took the form of a stag, while Wormtail was a rat.

Harry was incredibly surprised to find out that Sirius was actually his godfather. He was the closest thing to family Harry had now, since he didn't count the Dursleys, who hated him anyway.

Sirius then explained how he had been framed by Wormtail, who killed a street full of people and chopped off his own finger to incriminate him. He vaguely recounted how he had escaped Azkaban and eventually found Remus. Smiling, he told Harry how it was actually thanks to Hermione that Lupin believed his innocence. Apparently, Hermione had found a magical map the young marauders had made of Hogwarts, which showed everyone there, displaying their name, in their exact location.

Harry thought the map sounded amazing and got side-tracked asking questions about it before Sirius brought the conversation back to how it cleared his name.

"You see," Sirius had told him, "Hermione here, with her strict following of the rules and overall nosiness…" he shot Hermione a smile which wasn't returned, "found our old map in the hands of two new would-be troublemakers. So naturally, being our lovely Hermione, she took it from then and handed it over to the first teacher she saw, which happened to be Remus. Bloody good stroke of luck she ran into him first, too, otherwise I might still be branded a criminal by everyone, including my friends."

Harry turned to Hermione in disbelief.

"You cleared my godfather's name?"

"Well, no," Hermione answered. "He isn't technically cleared; the Ministry still thinks he is guilty. But now the Order knows the truth, at least."

"Because of you," Harry added.

Hermione protested, saying it was all just a good bit of luck that it worked out, but both Sirius and Harry seemed to credit her for it anyway.

Then, Sirius told them how he was currently hiding out in this cave to keep an eye on Hogwarts.

"Apparently, the Death Eaters are taking over Hogwarts," Sirius said.

"What?" Hermione asked, sounding angry and surprised.

"Yeah, the Order heard about their plans. They are well on their way to taking over the Ministry and now they want Hogwarts, too. Snape is likely going to be made Headmaster any day now… the greasy git is going to have everyone learning the dark arts. I also heard they are going to come up with some way to determine everyone's blood status."

"Surely Professor McGonagall won't stand for this, and what about the other teachers?!" Hermione protested adamantly.

"I know you respect her, but she is no match for an army of Death Eaters, the Ministry, and You-Know-Who," Sirius told her darkly, "even with the other professors, too. I'm sure some of them are trying to help the students out in secret. Nothing is final yet anyway. They want to make sure they secure the Ministry first. And I heard that toad Umbridge is right up there helping them out."

The discussion about Hogwarts continued for a while, although nothing good came of it. By the end of the conversation, Hermione was irate, almost to the point of tears in frustration, while Harry had a headache and felt even more weighed down by the unimaginable task ahead of him. Sirius seemed fairly grumpy about it, too, and put off the air of wanting to do more than sit around and spy from a hidden cave.

Dobby, who mostly listened while they talked, cleaning some of the cave, had also given Harry his wand back. The elf told them that he had picked it up before disapparating. Unfortunately, it was broken and beyond repair.

Later that evening, after Dobby bid them farewell to return to Hogwarts, promising to tell only Professor McGonagall about Harry, Sirius told them that they would probably have to spend the night there. He said he wasn't sure when it would be safe enough for them to move and go somewhere else. According to Sirius and whoever he was in contact with, going back to Lupin's didn't seem like a safe option right now.

They didn't mind that much, though, seeing as both of them liked Sirius.

"Why don't we conjure up some better sleeping arrangements or transfigure something into another cot?" Harry suggested.

"I would," Sirius answered, "but we aren't too far from Hogwarts, don't forget. It really isn't safe to do magic here, with Death Eaters crawling around. I doubt anything would happen if we did, but you never know who is trying to trace magic and the last thing we need is them charging in here to get you."

Even though Harry didn't know his godfather well, he got the feeling that Sirius knew he was important in the war against Voldemort.

So they got ready for sleep without magic; Sirius on his usual small cot (which the other two had refused to take) and Harry and Hermione lying on the ground with their heads propped against their bags.

Sirius fell asleep first, snoring loudly enough to let them know he was definitely out.

A while later, Harry was lying on the freezing cold cave floor, still unable to sleep. It was odd, he didn't feel exceptionally troubled or worried, and he did feel tired, but his mind wouldn't rest. He quietly rolled over and was surprised to hear shuffling from Hermione's direction, too.

_Maybe she is just moving in her sleep?_

It was too dark to see her, but he knew where she was from when they had set up their sleeping areas. Harry moved again experimentally. He heard a quiet movement from her direction again in response. Taking a chance, Harry let his curiosity get the better of him and slid closer to where he thought she should be. He knew he had been sort of between her and Sirius, and judging by the snoring, he was moving away from this godfather. He lay out on his back with one of his hands behind his head, listening intently. Even with that noise in the background, he could now hear Hermione's breathing if he concentrated. He noticed that it was a little uneven, and guessed that she was awake, too.

"Hermione?" he whispered, so softly that he wasn't sure she would hear it even if she was awake.

Her breath hitched slightly before she whispered back.

"Harry? Are you alright?"

"Yeah, just can't sleep," he answered, before adding, "Are you okay? Why are you still awake?"

"Yes, and I can't seem to get to sleep either."

In the pause that followed, Harry noticed that he felt warmer than he had in his own spot and wondered just how close to her he had moved in the dark.

"Do you want to talk or anything?" Harry asked finally, his voice sounding unsure even being so quiet. "I think it might be a while before I can fall asleep."

"Sure, but we don't want to wake Sirius," she cautioned.

"True…" Harry agreed. "Should we just try to sleep, then?"

For a moment only the noise of Sirius snoring filled the cave, before she answered.

"No, that's alright. We can talk if we are quiet."

Harry nodded before realizing that she couldn't see him, and hastily whispered his approval.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, err… I didn't really have anything in mind. I just sort of thought we could talk, since neither of us can sleep…" Harry now felt foolish for suggesting they talk without having any idea of_ what_ to talk about.

"Oh, well that's alright," she answered. "I can think of something, then."

There was a long pause before she spoke again, and when she did, her soft voice sounded rushed.

"There's something I want to ask you."

"Alright," Harry whispered back, feeling nervous all of a sudden. She wanted to ask him something?

_What could she want to ask me?_

He heard her shift around a bit before speaking again.

"Earlier today…" she said in a much calmer voice, "when I was in trouble, you jumped in the way… Why?"

Harry took a long time to respond; he didn't know what to say. He honestly didn't know why he had put himself between her and Voldemort.

_Wasn't really the smartest thing to do, seeing as I'm supposedly the only one who can defeat him. Why did I…? He was casting the spell- I almost died._

The finality and truth behind that thought hit him hard, sending a shiver up his spine, but to his surprise, he didn't regret what he had done.

"I- I'm honestly not sure," Harry finally answered, "I just… did. Sorry if that isn't a good answer."

"That's alright, you don't have to apologize," she reassured him quickly. "I was just curious." A few seconds later, she added, "Thank you… for trying to save me." Her voice was so quiet this time that he wasn't sure he'd heard it.

Compliments and words of gratitude were foreign to him, and he really didn't know how to take them. He stalled for a moment, not sure how to respond, before settling on the simplest answer he could come up with.

"You're welcome."

Hermione didn't say anything else right away, but after a minute, he heard her take a deeper breath.

"Harry-" she stopped talking immediately when Sirius gave a loud grunt.

They heard his cot squeak as he rolled over, both holding their breath, instinctively afraid of being caught. Soon however, his snoring returned and they relaxed.

"We should probably just try to sleep now," Hermione said quietly.

"Yeah," Harry confirmed.

Neither of them said anything for a while, but eventually Hermione broke their silence again.

"Goodnight, Harry."

"Goodnight, Hermione," he replied.

With that, Harry felt her move a little farther away from him. He wasn't sure how he _felt _it exactly, but it was like the air next to him shifted. Figuring he should move back to his original spot, too, Harry rolled onto his side.

_It's so much colder over there… but I can't stay here._

Sighing almost inaudibly, Harry slid back toward where he had started out for the night, finding the lumpy bag he had been using as a pillow. Resting his head on it and shivering slightly, he finally let his eyes drift closed.

* * *

The next few days went very much the same; Hermione spent nearly the entire day reading, while Harry divided his time between reading, playing with his snitch, and sitting around lost in thought. When they weren't occupying themselves with those things, Harry and Hermione often talked about the Horcruxes and their possible locations (Harry thought Hogwarts would be a good place to look- Hermione kept mentioning Gringott's), or the news Sirius had brought them the night before. Most days he would leave early in the morning to go do… something, and wouldn't return until after dark. When he got back to the cave, he would eat and tell them what he had found out for the day. They all knew he wasn't telling them everything, but were glad to at least have some information on the outside world.

One night, Sirius walked in looking more optimistic than usual.

"Pup," he said once he spotted them.

Harry looked up, now used to his godfather sometimes using this nickname for him.

"You needed a wand, right?" Sirius tossed one to him.

"Thanks," Harry told him, inspecting it.

"Not a fancy one, but I picked it up today and thought you could use it."

Harry nodded gratefully.

"Sirius, I made soup if you want some," Hermione offered, walking over to the pot.

"Hah! You're spoiling me, Hermione. I may never want the two of you to leave," Sirius said, sitting down.

At night, Harry was having a difficult time staying asleep. Sometimes he woke up twice a night after nightmares involving Voldemort. Once, Hermione had even shaken him from sleep because he had been having a nightmare in the morning. It struck him as odd though; sometimes he was having dreams about people he had never seen before, but suddenly someone spoke their name and he knew it was right. And in one dream, he thought he'd seen Hogwarts, which he never had in real life.

Many of his nightmares, though, took place at an all-too-familiar location. The Malfoy Manor was a common setting for his dreams, where he saw new prisoners and others being tortured and killed. Sometimes Harry experienced these things in a first-person perspective, performing the spells that harmed these people, which only made things worse for him.

Hermione seemed to notice that something was wrong, but usually she let it go without too much trouble if he simply said that he didn't want to talk about it. She certainly didn't seem pleased with this answer, though, and Harry would often notice her eyes following him, full of concern.

One evening when Hermione brought it up again, he expected to evade her questions easily.

"I've told you," Harry said uninterestedly, "I have been having some trouble sleeping. It's not a big deal."

And with that, he went back to lazily catching his snitch from his position seated on the cave floor.

"Not a big deal?" Hermione asked doubtfully. "Harry, you look like you haven't slept properly in days, and you keep mumbling and tossing and turning in your sleep."

Harry sighed.

"I'm fine, Hermione. Can we just drop it?"

"No, you are not fine, and no, we are not just going to drop it," Hermione answered in a firm, irritated voice. She paused before adding in a more gentle tone, "Harry, tell me what is going with you… please."

After a few moments, Harry resigned himself to talking about it.

"Alright. I've been having nightmares; visions of what You-Know-Who's been doing, seeing stuff from my past, things that could happen in the future… I don't know, there's nothing-" Harry stopped abruptly as they heard a noise from outside the cave.

They tensed, eyes locked, before Sirius's voice drifted to them, whining about not being able to grab a meal all day.

And so for the time being, the conversation was over.

Harry knew she wouldn't let it go, though. And that meant he couldn't keep avoiding it either. Trapped together in a cave, he had nowhere to hide and he knew he would have to face her again soon. Lately, he spent most of his days trying to forget the night before, and forcing himself not to think about the darkness creeping back into the cave as the sun began to set.

Harry knew some of the nightmares must have some significance, but he wasn't sure if he was ready to face that in the daylight, for the things he was witnessing every night were truly horrifying. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he felt like he knew some of what was happening in his dreams was real, happening as he watched it, helplessly. What he scared him the most about the dreams, though, was when he was the one doing the yelling, the torturing, the killing. Why was it like he was seeing it through his own eyes- feeling it in his own body? What did that mean? And what would Hermione think if she found out?


	12. Cold as Ice

Since today is Valentine's Day, I decided to do a double-update. I hope you guys enjoy the chapters, and if you didn't check out chapter 11, make sure you read that one first! Thanks.

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**Chapter 12: Cold as Ice  
**

Thanking Sirius in his head for interrupting his conversation with Hermione about his nightmares, Harry got some of their food together for his godfather. Also seeing that their talk was over, Hermione pulled out a large volume which she began to read, glancing at Harry often. Harry sat with Sirius, and before long he pushed the thoughts of his dreadful nights to the back of his mind.

"So, Harry, did I ever tell you about the time James and I snuck into the Forbidden Forest in third year after Lily overheard us talking about it, and said we'd never have the nerve to go in there alone?" Sirius asked Harry, with a mischievous grin, looking excited to recount the tale.

Harry could also feel Hermione's exasperation as he caught her roll her eyes from where she sat a ways away, reading. He smiled slightly and listened to Sirius's story with interest. A few of the nights had been like this- Sirius had come back and told Harry, and Hermione, when she wanted to listen, about his time with James and the Marauders.

The stories involving his parents were understandably the most interesting to Harry, especially those with his mother in them, since they were less common. Harry would listen with rapt attention, trying to picture everything Sirius described. He had to admit, Sirius was a good story-teller; what he lacked in detail and fancy language, he more than made up for with enthusiasm and amusing antics. The night he told them briefly about how they had all decided to become animagi was particularly hilarious. And for the first time in his life, Harry felt like he actually knew his parents, by more than just a face and a name.

After finishing the story, Sirius lowered his voice and the excitement left his eyes. He suddenly looked a lot older.

"You know, I didn't have the best childhood either," Sirius confessed, "my parents, my brother, my relatives- evil and twisted- the whole filthy lot of them. They were into the dark arts and followers of You-Know-Who." He gave a humorless laugh. "They all hated me, the lazy, good-for-nothing Gryffindor. I think I was the only one in my family in about a century not in Slytherin." Sirius looked miserable talking about his family, but Harry could tell (and so could Hermione, who couldn't help but listen nearby) that he was trying not to make it seem too pitiable.

"But, then I made some friends and things got a bit better," after a second Sirius added with a grin, "and a lot more fun."

The grin faded and no one said anything for a minute.

"There isn't a day that passes when I don't think about your dad," he told Harry sincerely. He paused. "Having you here… it's like… well…" he trailed off, and Harry could tell he wasn't sure how to say it, but he understood.

Harry nodded.

"I don't remember my parents, really. Hearing these stories about them… it means a lot," Harry admitted, too, not looking at Sirius.

Hermione looked up from her book, watching them silently. She could almost feel the emotion in the air.

"Right, well, we don't want to get too soppy. Might start sounding like a pair of girls, eh, Granger?" Sirius said after sharing a look of understanding with Harry. "Now, on to a man's topic!" he announced to the room, "Quidditch!"

Hermione couldn't help but roll her eyes again as she went back to her book, muttering about guys being ridiculous with a small smile on her lips.

It was quite late before they all went to sleep that night, though Hermione decided to turn in before the boys this time.

* * *

Just before evening the next day, about an hour after it had gotten dark, Harry was taking a nap before Sirius got back when he began to thrash around in his sleep. Hermione quickly walked over to him and knelt down.

"Harry," she said, trying to rouse him.

"No," Harry mumbled in his sleep, "Have to… No! It broke… it broke…"

Most of what Harry was saying was slurred with sleep, but Hermione could make out bits and pieces.

"Please- I didn't- It wasn't my fault," he whimpered.

She reached out and shook his shoulder, hoping to bring him out of his nightmare. After a bit of shaking, Harry's eyes flew open and he jolted into a sitting position.

"Harry, it was just a dream. Are you alright?" Hermione asked him in a concerned voice, her hand still resting on his arm lightly.

He was panting and wide-eyed, looking frightened.

"Harry?" Hermione asked again after he didn't respond right away.

He looked at her, his breathing more under control, but said nothing.

"Harry, what was your dream about?" she asked. When he didn't respond again, she prompted, "What broke? What wasn't your fault?"

Harry sighed. If she had heard that much, he doubted she was just going to let it go this time.

"Remember the prophecy from Dumbledore's memories- about me and You-Know-Who?" Harry asked wearily.

When Hermione nodded, he continued.

"Well, he did know some of it, and he wanted desperately to know the whole thing… so… a few years ago he had me sneak into the Ministry of Magic to try and steal it."

Hermione gasped.

"Yeah," Harry acknowledged, clearly uncomfortable.

"I was disguised, of course, and I got the prophecy without being caught… but at some point when I was trying to escape- I'm not sure exactly what happened, but it broke," he told a stunned Hermione.

"You broke into the Ministry of Magic?" she asked disbelievingly. She seemed to have difficulty wrapping her head around the idea that a teenage wizard could infiltrate the center of their wizarding government without being caught.

"Yes," Harry answered distantly. "They devised the plan, mostly, but I had to improvise some, too." After a pause, he added darkly, "I have done a lot of things in the past that I am not proud of."

The look on her face changed, and he felt her grip on his arm tighten a little. She spoke softly when he responded.

"Harry, I-" she stopped as they heard noise from the mouth of the cave. It sounded different tonight and they both immediately got the feeling that something wasn't right. A chill went up Harry's spine and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Some kind of screeching alarm sounded outside.

They shared a quick look and Hermione drew her wand. Harry panicked for several seconds before finding the wand Sirius had found and given him.

In seconds, Harry's godfather appeared at the mouth of the cave.

"Get the cloak on and get out of here, fast!" Sirius shouted at them in an urgent, whispered voice. "And don't apparate!"

He turned around and was gone as quickly as he had come.

Harry and Hermione dashed around the cave, scrambling to grab their belongings and stuff them into bags as fast as they could.

At last, Harry yanked his invisibility cloak out of his bag and turned to Hermione, speaking fast.

"I don't know if we can both fit," he told her anxiously.

"Well we have to try! It's dark out, at least."

She quickly moved close to him and tugged the cloak, which they threw over themselves.

"No good- your feet," Harry told her.

She stepped closer to him, their shoulders now pressed together with Hermione slightly in front.

"Let's go," Harry whispered.

They immediately caused the cloak to slide up around their ankles.

_We don't have time for this._

Harry quickly pulled Hermione tightly to his side, wrapping an arm around her to hold her in place. She gasped at the sudden movement, but copied him, and they both crouched down somewhat just to be safe.

They reached the cave's entrance and slipped out unnoticed into the darkness. The blaring noise was so much louder outside they cringed. Immediately, a man spoke a ways off to their right. The pair froze, listening intently.

"Must be hiding… Send in the Dementors!" he commanded in a loud voice. "They'll find 'em."  
They tensed. Harry pulled Hermione away from the direction of the man's voice before she took the lead, guiding them toward what looked like a small village. The moon was giving them just enough light to have an idea of where they were going.

_If we're near Hogwarts, that must be Hogsmeade._

They crept into the dimly lit village as quickly as they could without risking the cloak slipping too much. An icy chill spread through the air, and into Harry's body. Hermione stopped suddenly, near a building to one side of the road that Harry couldn't see well in the dark. Harry hurriedly looked around and spotted the problem; hooded figures were gliding toward them from both ends of the street, and they were closing in fast.

Harry's chest tightened as they grew closer.

_Dementors… all I've heard about them is that they prey on fear and "kiss" their victims. Damn. What do we do!?_

Instinctively, Harry turned Hermione and pushed her face-first into the side of the wall closest to them. He then quickly shielded her body with his, trying to protect her. A distant scream worked its way into Harry's mind. Seconds later, he heard rattling, raspy breathing just behind them. Dark images fought for dominance in his head: times he had been tortured, times he had been forced to torture others, watching Hermione tremble with pain and look at him pleadingly, her eyes begging for help.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. Even through the cloak, it felt freezing. The woman's scream grew louder, pushing out the other images in his mind until all he saw green light. He held Hermione tighter reflexively.

Pain shot through his scar and the scream grew louder and louder, consuming his consciousness, until- suddenly it stopped. The green light blinding Harry's closed eyes faded.

The hand had flown off his shoulder and the cold darkness surrounding him had ebbed slightly. Moving away from Hermione just enough to look around, he saw a silvery-white mist in the shape of a goat. It charged another dementor and knocked it further back down the street.

"In here," a voice called, and they saw a door ajar a few feet from them. "Hurry up!"

Not giving it a second thought given the situation, they dove inside. The old man ushered them further into the building, which looked like a bar.

"Go upstairs. Keep the cloak on," he instructed. "And stay quiet."

He quickly walked back to the front door as they ascended the stairs.

From upstairs, they heard him say that letting his cat out had set off the alarms (Caterwauling Charms) and that his patronus chased the dementors away when they started swarming him. He lowered his voice and said some others things they didn't quite catch, but the men at the door didn't seem to like it.

"Fine," they heard one of the men say eventually, "we'll let you off with a warning this time."

Shortly after, they heard footsteps coming up the stairs. The old man walked into the room. Harry noticed in the light that behind his long beard and glasses, he had bright blue eyes.

"Alright, you can take that cloak off now," he told them, "they're gone."

As soon as they got the cloak off, he started to question them.

"Now who are you, and why are you trying to sneak into Hogsmeade in the middle of a war?"

Hermione answered quickly.

"We were trying to get into Hogwarts, but then someone sent dementors after us."

Harry sat there silently, impressed with how quickly Hermione had come up with that story.

"The Death Eaters- they've taken over at Hogwarts. Don't want anyone getting in or out who they don't approve of. You don't want to go there now. Not with the Carrows dealing out the punishments." The man looked weary, but sharp. "So who are you, then?"

Hermione hesitated, clearly not sure whether to reveal their true identities.

"I'm Hermione Granger," she eventually answered. "And this… this is Harry Potter."

The man looked interestedly at Harry.

"My brother always swore you were still alive. Had some sort of grand scheme for you, I expect." His words sounded bitter. "Well, I don't know how you survived this long, Potter, but your best bet now is to get as far away from here as you can."

Harry wanted to mention Sirius, but thought better of it since he didn't know if he could trust this man or if he knew of Sirius's innocence.

"We need to get into Hogwarts," Harry told the man. He still felt strongly that one of the Horcruxes or something that could help them might be there.

The man shook his head.

"Not with my help, boy… you haven't got a chance in there. No, the best bet is to find a way to get you out of here."

Harry went to say something, but the man continued speaking, somewhat to himself.

"You can't leave at night; you'll set the charms off for sure and have dementors flooding the place again. If you wait until the morning, just after the sun comes up, you might be able to sneak out using the cloak. But then you need to get out of Hogsmeade as fast as you can. Head into the mountains; there are caves up there where people hide out once and a while- usually the Death Eaters don't find them there."

"You mentioned your brother," Hermione said once he finished speaking. "Who is your brother?"

The man looked uncomfortable but answered anyway.

"Albus was my brother. I expect you knew him," he said, addressing Hermione.

"Oh, I didn't even know Professor Dumbledore had a brother, even with everything I read about him…" she looked a cross between disappointed in herself and puzzled.

"Yes, my brother rarely mentioned me. I did not have the same ambitions of greatness and change. My name is Aberforth."

"We really need to get into Hogwarts," Harry repeated. "Your brother left me with a job, and I need to go there if I have any hope of finishing it."

"He left you a job?" Aberforth asked. "Had you ever even met him?"

"No, but-" Harry tried to respond.

"Then why are you going around following a dead man's orders? All you are going to do is get yourself killed."

"I have to do this," Harry answered. "Your brother figured out how to stop You-Know-Who and he left memories for me explaining how to stop him. I've got to be the one to finish this."

"You don't have to do anything," Aberforth said a bit more forcefully. "This plan of my brother's, did he even tell you all the details? Did he make everything clear to you? Was he completely honest with you?"

Harry didn't answer. He couldn't. Aberforth was right- he didn't even know Dumbledore. Could he really trust him? Was this plan anything more than a blind excuse to cling to hope?

"You might as well give up now, Potter. The Order of the Phoenix can't handle them this time, and You-Know-Who has got the Ministry and now Hogwarts. It's done."

"I'm not going to give up, not when I know there is still a chance- still something no one's tried," Harry told him finally. "We are the only ones who know about it, and we are the best chance anyone's got. So if you aren't going to help us, then we will leave quietly in the morning, just like you want, and figure out a way in ourselves. But if there is any way you can help us, anything else you can tell us, you might just be saving the entire world by not letting us die trying to sneak into a guarded castle."

Harry wasn't sure what to expect from Aberforth in response, but for at least a minute, he just regarded Harry with his bright blue eyes. And Harry stared back at the brother of the man Harry had spent a considerable part of his life believing to be his greatest enemy.

Eventually, Aberforth stood and walked over to a large painting of a girl. Harry quickly noticed that it was the only form of decoration in the whole room. He had been so focused on the man who saved them that he hadn't even taken the time to look around.

Aberforth merely nodded to the girl, who smiled and walked away from them into the distance in the painting. Harry had never seen a painting do that, but before he could question it, Aberforth spoke.

"They've blocked off every other secret entrance. This is the only way into Hogwarts, now," Aberforth told them in a resigned voice. "But once you get inside… I hope you don't expect it to be easy to avoid Snape and the Carrows. Not to mention all the other Death Eaters and dementors stalking around. I still think you'd be better off getting away from here and out of the country, but that's on you."

The girl returned, walking back toward them in the painting, but this time she wasn't alone. There was someone with her, who looked like he was struggling a bit to keep up. The guy looked taller than the girl in the painting, and when he got close enough to see his expression, he looked quite confused.

Suddenly, the portrait swung open like a door, revealing a passageway. A guy looked out at them, bewildered and scruffy-looking. A large smile spread across his face as he spotted them.

Harry had no idea who he was.


	13. Old Friends

Up to chapter 13! Thank you to everyone who is reading and supporting this fanfiction.

* * *

**Chapter 13: Old Friends  
**

The guy who had come from the secret passage behind the painting cheered, jumped from the ledge and caught Hermione up in a hug.

"Hermione, it's been ages! I knew you'd make it- you're too smart not to have," he told her enthusiastically.

"Neville!" Hermione said letting go and taking a step back, "Oh, it's great to see you, too. I'm so glad you're alright!"

"Just wait 'til Luna and Ginny hear you're okay- they'll be over the moon," he told her, still smiling. "Luna was taken, too - we were so worried- but a little house elf showed up with her about a week ago. She didn't look so great at first, but she's almost right back to normal, now," he told Hermione happily.

"Dobby did it!" Hermione said, turning to Harry for the first time since the boy's entrance.

Harry, who had been standing there awkwardly during their reunion, looked up, and offered a half-hearted smile.

Neville seemed to notice him for the first time since he had spotted Hermione, too.

"Oh," he said, "Sorry. I'm Neville Longbottom." He stuck out his hand, which caused Harry to freeze for a moment. Trusting strangers was certainly not something he had learned growing up. Glancing at Hermione, who gave him an encouraging nod, he tentatively took the guy's hand in a firm grip.

"I'm Harry Potter."

The reaction was immediate. Neville's eyes widened and his eyes darted from Harry to Hermione and back again.

"No joke?" he asked.

"No, Neville," Hermione answered, "this is really him."

"Wow," Neville said, still sounding a bit surprised, "well, it's certainly unexpected, but, it's nice to meet you, Harry."

He smiled and Harry was glad that was all the fuss he made about his identity.

Neville certainly looked worse for wear- he was covered in cuts and bruises and his clothes were ripped in a few places. He had the general appearance of someone who had been living dangerously on the run for a more than a few days.

After another minute of talking, they followed Neville into the passage, still listening to him explain the current state of Hogwarts; things there definitely didn't sound good. He also told them that the passage led to the Room of Requirement, which Hermione seemed to know about already. This didn't surprise Harry, but since he had no idea what it was, Hermione gave him a quick description before Neville continued talking.

When they reached the end of the tunnel, there was another door. Neville turned to them, ready to push it open.

"Well, this is it," he told them, still looking upbeat.

Light shown into the passageway as Neville exited. Hermione started to follow, but paused, noticing Harry's reluctance. His heart was beating harder than usual and he felt fidgety, not knowing what was waiting on the other side of the door. The only thing he did know was that he was about to get his first glimpse of Hogwarts, the place where his parents had learned magic.

Hermione smiled at him and took his hand, pulling him forward with her. Just as he entered the room behind her, Hermione discreetly let go of his hand, staying close by his side.

The room was nothing like he had even seen before. It was a good size, with wooden walls and no windows, a few hammocks hanging, and three large banners on the walls, which Harry recognized as House crests from _Hogwarts: A History_. As he hopped off the low ledge where the tunnel let out, he heard a few people yell Hermione's name. Seeing a little over half a dozen curious and excited faces looking at them, Harry felt nervous and uncomfortable. He had no idea what lay ahead in the corridors of Hogwarts, but he certainly hadn't expected a welcoming party, if that's what it was.

"Hermione is back!" Neville told them. "And you'll never guess who she's brought with her!"

All eyes turned to Harry, and he felt himself tense and heat up, glancing at Hermione immediately. Neville looked him in the eyes, and introduced to the small group:

"Harry Potter."

Silence filled the room for several long seconds as they gaped at him before everyone started whispering at once. Harry felt like he was on display in a zoo, and wanted nothing more than to jump back through the portrait and forget the possibility of something useful being hidden at Hogwarts. Hermione, noticing his extreme discomfort, took his hand again and led him over to a girl in the small, excited crowd.

She had light blond hair and a sort of dreamy look on her face.

"Harry," Hermione said, "this is Luna Lovegood."

Luna looked at him closely, and Harry noticed that she was wearing odd earrings. More importantly, the others had stopped staring at him.

"Luna," Hermione turned to address her friend, "this is Harry Potter."

"But of course it is," Luna answered kindly, "Dobby told me all about you when he rescued me. He said you and Hermione sent him to get me out of there."

Harry, who had just been starting to relax somewhat, felt his face heat up again. What had Dobby said about him? Why had he even mentioned him?

"Err… it's nice to meet you, Luna," Harry told her.

"It is very nice to meet you, also."

A girl and boy with red hair and freckles stepped toward them.

Hermione noticed this and introduced them as Ginny and Ron Weasley. Harry had to fight the urge to cringe at the name "Weasley"; he had heard it on several occasions at the Malfoys and what was said about them was never good. This meant he might just get along with them.

"Where is Professor McGonagall?" Hermione asked once they were acquainted and she had given them a very brief account of what had happened to her.

"Not sure," Neville answered from beside Hermione. "We don't get out exploring the castle much lately."

"The four of us have been stuck here, since we know they are after us," Ginny told them, "but a few others come and go, like Colin," she nodded to a young-looking boy with an old-fashioned camera around his neck. He was openly gaping at Harry, with his hands gripping his camera, looking like he might faint.

"They give us news of what's been going on in the castle, or hide out for an hour or two if someone is looking for them," Ginny finished explaining.

Hermione looked uncertain without the prospect of seeking out McGonagall's guidance.

"What are you doing here, anyway?" Ron asked.

"We were chased by dementors, and ended up here. But," she glanced at Harry, trying to read on his face if he was okay with her revealing anything to them. "We do need to find something…" Hermione told the group.

"Well, what is it?" Ron's tone was a bit impatient now.

"We… aren't completely sure," Hermione answered, looking embarrassed.

"Blimey, Hermione, how do you expect to find it, then?"

Seeing annoyance flare up in Hermione's eyes at her brother's comment, Ginny hastily stepped in.

"Ron, that isn't helping." She shot him a dirty look that clearly said to keep quiet if he didn't have anything helpful to say.

"Do you have any idea at all what it might be?" Neville asked hopefully. He looked a bit doubtful, though.

"Maybe something of one of the founder's… like an heirloom or something with the House crest on it," Hermione suggested. "Just, keep an eye out, at least, and if you find something suspicious, be careful with it. Hide it somewhere safe and try to let us know, or tell us when we get back."

"When you get back?" Ginny asked. "Where are you going?"

Again Hermione's eyes sought Harry, who had remained a silent observer in their conversation.

"We are helping the Order; a sort of… secret mission," she offered, hoping they would accept this as sufficient.

Their faces held varying degrees of curiosity, but none of them asked anything more.

Harry and Hermione set out to try to find McGonagall not long after, with him blinking his eyes furiously to try to stop the blue spots that kept popping into his vision. As they were leaving Colin seemed to have regained his ability to move and had rushed over to take a picture of a flustered Harry. Ron had hollered at him and took the picture, saying it could be dangerous if anyone caught sight of it and not trusting the younger boy not to show it off. Colin had sulked off, and the other four promised to keep an eye out for any magical items that might fit their description.

"So, do you know where we're going?" Harry whispered to her as they ducked into an empty corridor to avoid crossing someone's path. Under the cloak they had the advantage of invisibility, but it was more difficult navigating the castle, having to dodge people and keep quiet.

"I have an idea, but I'm not sure," she admitted, as they peered down the next hall.

After a few close calls, they found the rightful Headmistress of Hogwarts. She had been surprised to see Hermione, but very glad to find her safe. The stunned expression she held once Harry had been introduced and the basics of their situation were explained looked out of place on such a wise face.

At Hermione's request, the Professor taught them the spell for fighting off dementors after they caught up. Hermione mastered the basics of the spell without too much trouble, quickly producing a silvery mist, though she would need more practice to form that into a full Patronus. Harry, on the other hand, was having a difficult time. Professor McGonagall seemed to think it was the happy memory that was giving Harry trouble. He didn't disagree.

McGonagall said that she would let them stay, and personally help to hide them, but it might be in their best interest to leave sooner rather than later if they were planning to. Before they left, however, the woman said she knew someone would want to see them.

Dobby appeared out of thin air, and greeted them with a deep bow.

"Harry Potter, sir!" Dobby said eagerly, "and his miss!"

Their faces reddened at Dobby's comment, and the Professor gave them a strange look.

"Well, I have to be going," Professor McGonagall told them. "You are certain the two of you can get out of the castle undetected?"

"Yes, Professor," Hermione assured her.

"Then I wish you both good luck, with whatever it is you're doing. And know that my door, while it may be difficult to reach, will always be open."

Harry was surprised at the kindness and sincerity in her voice. From the impression he got, he suspected that students wouldn't like getting on her bad side, and that she would have been stern but fair.

They thanked her and she left the room, her cloak swishing behind her.

"Dobby is glad to see you are still being alright, sir!"

"Thanks," Harry answered.

"Dobby, you lived with the Malfoy family for years before Harry freed you, right?" Hermione asked gently.

"Oh, yes, miss," Dobby told her, his large eras flopping comically as he nodded, "many years indeed."

"Did you ever hear them talking about hiding anything really important- maybe some really dark magical object?" she kept her tone neutral, but Harry could tell from the excitement in her eyes that she was hopeful.

"Dobby heard many things there," the elf told her after a few moments, "many things he did not want to hear."

"There are things we need to find…" Hermione said cautiously, "they are very important. Do you know where the Death Eaters might've hidden anything?"

"Dobby remembers, but Dobby should not say. He should not- it is too dangerous," he told her, looking anxious, twisting his hands together.

"Dobby, it will be a lot more dangerous for us if we can't find them," Hermione tried to reason.

"Dobby should not say," he repeated, shaking his head with wide eyes.

"Dobby, please," Harry stepped in, seeing that Hermione was having difficulty persuading the elf to reveal what he knew. "If you don't tell us, we could all be in a lot of trouble… it has to do with defeating You-Know-Who."

At this, the elf stopped shaking his head and stared at his friend nervously.

"If you know something- if there's anything you can tell us- it might save our lives," Harry continued.

Dobby paused for a few moments, looking between the two of them and sighed.

"Then Dobby must tell," he concluded. "Dobby remembers, not long before he was freed," he gave Harry a smile of appreciation before continuing, "hearing things about that horrible mad-woman keeping something safe."

"She was telling Mister Malfoy about how she was his new favorite, sir. She was bragging about it. Saying because she got to hide something important for… You-Know-Who. He was asking what she is hiding, but she would not say. She just said it was an important artifact that showed the Dark Lord's power over Hogwarts. Dobby thinks she does not know why it is important. Mister Malfoy seemed to be thinking so, too, because they argued about it, sir."

"You mean Bellatrix, right?" Harry confirmed.

"Yes, sir," Dobby nodded once, "the Horrible Mad-Woman."

Despite the seriousness of the topic, Harry cracked a smile at this.

"So, Bellatrix is hiding-" Hermione stopped herself, having almost said 'one of the Horcruxes', "something?"

"It seems like it," Harry agreed. "Bellatrix is off her rocker- absolutely mental- but she wouldn't be bragging like that if she didn't think she had something important. She teased Malfoy all the time about how he had fallen out of You-Know-Who's favor, but I don't think she would have just made it up. Stretch the truth here or there, sure, but she usually doesn't outright lie if she can't back it up."

"Hmm…" Hermione seemed to be contemplating this.

"Besides," Harry added, "if she went ahead telling other Death Eaters she was hiding something, and they found out it was nonsense, she certainly wouldn't look good, would she? I think she must really be hiding something for him. It's got to be one of them."

He turned to Dobby.

"You don't have any idea where she might've hidden it, do you?"

"Dobby does not know, sir. She did not say." As Harry's face fell some, Dobby added, "But, she said she was the only one who could ever get to it."

Hermione gasped.

"Gringott's," she said with certainty. "It must be in her vault at Gringott's. She's the only one who could get to it- it's one of the safest places there is, if not _the_ safest."

Harry wasn't as sure, but what she said did make sense.

"Well then, if it is there, how do we get it?" Harry asked

"It would be nearly impossible," Hermione answered quickly. "Gringott's has only ever been broken into once. And even then nothing was stolen."

"Well what choice do we have, if that's where it's hidden?"

"None, really- if she _is _hiding something dark and dangerous down there, I doubt she would take it out for any reason." Hermione responded, still obviously thinking hard.

"Dobby does not think-" the elf feebly tried to protest in a shaky voice until Hermione cut him off in her excitement.

"Oh, of course! If we _were _going to break in, we could use polyjuice potion!" she told Harry eagerly. "It would still be incredibly tricky, mind you, but with that we might just have a chance."

Harry noticed that Dobby was starting to look like he might have a fit with worry.

"Hermione, there is absolutely no way we could, or would, ever break into Gringott's," Harry looked directly into her eyes, flicking them toward Dobby, "right?"

"Oh… well no, of course not. That would be much too dangerous. I suppose I just got carried away- you know me," she laughed at herself slightly, playing along. "Besides," she said this part seriously, "I can't imagine how we would get a bit of her to put in the potion."

Harry made a disgusted face, but decided not to ask for now.

There was a somewhat awkward pause.

"Well," Harry said finally with a dramatic sigh, "I guess we have no way of knowing if there's even anything we need in Gringott's. It could very well be life or death, but… if we don't know, we don't know. Not like we have any goblin friends hanging around we could ask."

Hermione looked at him curiously until Dobby spoke.

"Well…" he said hesitantly, "Dobby does know of one goblin…"

"You do?" Hermione asked, clearly surprised.

"Where is he?" Harry's question came quickly after Hermione's, not allowing Dobby to address the first.

Dobby looked at Harry, his hands twisting in front of him again.

"There was a goblin locked up at the Malfoy place, sir. When you asked Dobby to go and rescue the others there, Dobby did. One of them was a goblin."

"Where is he now?" Harry repeated gently, trying to be patient.

"He is where Dobby took him, sir," Dobby said in a suddenly quieter voice. "He is at the Tonks' house."

"Really?" Hermione asked immediately.

"Oh, yes, Miss. The Tonks' house is being used as a safe house by the Order now. There are others, but that is the first Dobby thought of." After a moment, he added, "He is always thinking Mrs. Lupin is very funny, and he wasn't sure if it was Mr. Lupin's time of the month."

Hermione's lips quirked up noticeably, and she couldn't help but laugh at the completely lost look on Harry's face.

"Wait, Lupin? Do you mean Remus Lupin's wife? And what do you mean his… oh," Harry said, remembering what Sirius had told them about Lupin.

"Well, yes, Mr. Lupin's wife…" Dobby looked unsure.

"Dobby, can you take us there?" Hermione asked.

"Why yes, Miss, Dobby could take you there. But it must be quick; Dobby is needing to get back to work now."

"Please, if you could just take us quickly, we can leave right away," Hermione told the little house elf.

"Yes, Miss! Anything for a friend of Harry Potter!" Dobby told them.

"You sure about this?" Harry asked. He didn't like the idea of going to another "safe" house, owned by complete strangers. However, he supposed anyone with a place safe from Voldemort would be a stranger to him.

"Yes, if the Order is using it as a safe house, it should be one of the best places for us to go. And if-" Hermione stopped when Harry put up his hands in defeat, giving up without a fight.

"Alright, relax," he smiled at her despite still looking uneasy, "if you say it's a good idea, then it probably is."

Hermione returned his smile, looking a little embarrassed.

"Let's go then, Dobby," Harry said.

They both took one of Dobby's hands and within seconds, they left the school (apparently the anti-apparition wards here did not apply to house elves working and living at Hogwarts either).

The group reappeared outside, and Dobby led them to a house that wasn't visible until they were nearly right in front of it. Walking closer to the cottage, they heard a loud bang from inside. Hermione ran to the door, whipping out her wand, and Harry followed close behind, drawing the wand Sirius had given him. Dobby hurried after them, whispering frantically about keeping quiet and danger.

Harry and Hermione flanked the doorway, waiting for Dobby to let them inside. The elf called out to the owners of the house quietly, and shortly after, they heard the front door unlock. Whatever magical protection there was on the entrance also vanished, for the time being. More crashing noises came from inside.

Harry and Hermione looked at each other seriously and nodded. Harry flung the door open and jumped in the doorway, his wand raised and ready. Hermione followed right after, standing at his side. Dobby was behind them, trying to calm them down while looking quite jittery himself.


	14. The Potion

Update time! Hope you guys are still enjoying the story. Thanks for all the support! Just as an update, I am currently working on a later chapter and making some decisions on where things are going to go. Some tough choices, but it is exciting, too.

* * *

**Chapter 14: The Potion  
**

Fear coursed through Harry as his eyes landed on a woman in the house, halfway down the small, dim hallway.

_Bellatrix._

Just as he was about to cast a stunning spell on the vile witch, Hermione turned and pushed his wand arm down, hard. They stumbled a bit at the force she applied as she shouted "No!"

Dobby was shutting the front door, whining about something, when there was another crash further down the hall as someone emerged from the far room. The woman Harry still had his eyes locked on walked forward.

In the light of the living room, he could see the differences more clearly. He had been wrong, this was not Bellatrix, but the resemblance was still frightening. This woman had lighter hair, a shade of brown, and her eyes didn't hold the same wild, dangerous expression. Even though her tone was displeased, he could see that her eyes actually looked kind when she spoke.

"And who are you, bursting through our front door like we owe you something?" she asked as she approached them.

"We're very sorry, Ma'am," Hermione said quickly, just now letting go of Harry. "We heard crashing inside the house, and we thought something might be wrong."

"Hermione, is that you?"

Another woman, younger than the first, stepped out of the hallway, barely slipping past the older lady. Once his eyes left the woman's pink hair, Harry noticed that her stomach was much too large for the rest of her and realized she must be pregnant. She spotted Hermione and smiled.

"Tonks!" Hermione said immediately, and the two walked forward to share a quick hug.

Harry was once again completely lost.

_That's been happening a lot lately…_

"You know her? Well, she must be in the Order, if she got past all our charms without us knowing," the older lady commented. "Oh, Dobby!" she exclaimed, noticing the elf for the first time, "Are these more prisoners you brought us?" She briefly scanned them with her eyes, "They don't look like it- not half as bad off as the others if they are."

"No, Ma'am, but Dobby must be going. Master Harry Potter and his miss will explain, but Dobby is needed back at Hogwarts." Without another word, Dobby disappeared with a small crack.

"Did he say Harry Potter?" the lady asked.

Tonks was standing next to Hermione, now silently staring at him.

"Yeah," Harry answered. "I'm Harry Potter."

"Merlin!" Tonks said, looking stunned but amused. "You really are still alive! Everyone calls me Tonks; my last name before I got married," she said, approaching him to shake his hand.

"Nice to meet you," Harry said, feeling less awkward meeting Tonks than he had normally with the others. "I met your husband not too long ago- Remus."

"Really?" Tonks asked, now looking even more surprised. "What happened? Is he-" Suddenly her face contorted with worry.

"He's fine," Hermione hurriedly assured her. "We can explain everything in a minute."

And so they did. Harry and Hermione explained what that had happened to them, leaving out that they had found out about Voldemort's Horcruxes. Harry was thankful that Hermione took the lead with the story; he only had to fill in parts or comment when he chose to, which suited him a lot better. When they asked about it, she spoke for him and gave the very short version of his past, which he also appreciated. He responded to their further questions, but he was glad not to have to tell the miserable tale again.

Tonks and her mother also helped to put them at ease about Sirius; the women agreed that Sirius should be fine, considering all close calls and trouble he had gotten himself out of in the past.

After quite a while of talking, Andromeda Tonks, who Harry had learned was the mother of the younger, very pregnant woman in the room, suggested they turn in for the night and get some sleep.

"The others are taking up our spare rooms, I'm afraid," the woman told Harry and Hermione. "It's a right good thing I put up a few silencing charms for the nonthreatening disturbances; the two of you bursting in my door would've caused even more of a ruckus." Andromeda made a face at Tonks, who was trying to avoid tripping over the blankets she was carrying out for them with limited success.

"Good thing your daughter is so clumsy, you mean," Hermione added with a good-natured smile.

Even Harry was amused. He never would have imagined that all the crashing they had heard from outside the front door could have just been someone knocking something over, but after being around Lupin's wife for a few hours, he was no longer that surprised.

"Hey!" Tonks said in a light tone as she got to the sofa, "It's much worse now that I'm pregnant- the extra weight makes even balanced women have trouble, for me it's just plain unfair."

They all laughed as she set the blankets on the couch and looked at them sheepishly, laughing too.

After a few minutes, Harry and Hermione were left alone in the living room. Harry had insisted that Hermione take the sofa, while he slept on the floor in front of it. They quietly set up their blankets, each lost in their own thoughts. Hermione flicked the lights off before Harry broke the silence.

"Thank you," he told her in a low voice after she had seated herself on the couch, "for doing most of the talking earlier. I hate having to explain it all the time, especially to people I don't even know."

"I could tell," Hermione told him, "when you've had to before. Are you alright?" She added, sounding concerned. "It's been quite a day."

"Yeah," Harry agreed, "escaping from the cave, going to Hogwarts, trying to learn that spell, coming here… I can't believe that all happened in one day."

They fell into silence again for a few moments, illuminated only by the small light still on in the hallway.

"Harry?" Hermione asked.

Harry looked up at her from his spot sitting in front of the couch on his blanket-bed.

"Yeah?"

"We should really practice the Patronus Charm. It's likely that we'll run into dementors again at some point, and we need a way to fight them off." Something about her tone told Harry that she knew it made him uncomfortable.

"Right," Harry simply agreed, looking away from her.

"You will get it," she told him. Her voice sounded so sure that his eyes rose back up to meet hers. "I know Professor McGonagall said you were probably having trouble with the memory, but you will think of something."

"I don't know…" Harry trailed off, now looking at one of the blankets. He wasn't sure if he found her apparent belief in him comforting or terrifying.

"There must be something- there just has to!" Harry noticed that behind the determination in her voice, she sounded sad. "I'm sure you have at least one truly happy memory that would work for the spell. And… if you don't," she paused for a second, "then we'll just have to make one ourselves."

Harry wasn't exactly sure what she meant, but found the thought encouraging in a way he hadn't expected. He smiled at her and in the dim light he saw her smile back.

"You must be exhausted; we should get to sleep," she suggested.

"Yeah, you're right," he replied. He really did feel worn out.

"Well, goodnight, Harry."

"Goodnight, Hermione."

Harry remained awake for a while after she had settled under her blankets and probably fallen asleep. His mind journeyed through his past, replaying scene after scene, searching for happier times. But he found none. This was the happiest he ever remembered being. Not necessarily right now, laying on the floor thinking of his past, but in general, the last month or so. Thinking about how he'd recently found out he was destined to face one of the darkest and most powerful wizards of all time, and either kill him or die trying, he really didn't think it made sense to be happier.

But it didn't matter; no matter how hard he thought, he couldn't come up with a time at the Dursleys' or the Malfoys' when he had felt this way. And he couldn't remember the short time he had with his parents. For the first time in his life, Harry felt just maybe like he belonged. The people he had met since he escaped Malfoy Manor were so completely different than those he'd met beforehand it was hard to make sense of it all.

To Harry, it felt right to believe in these people, and he knew he no longer doubted who his parents had been. Any lingering fears he still had in the back of his mind about them being Death Eaters were finally gone. He took a moment to marvel at how much everything had changed for him, and how much he had changed, in so little time. The darkness of his past still haunted him in his waking hours and especially at night, but when he woke up, he was granted a reality with purpose and hope, which was different.

Then he realized something that caught him off guard:

The reason everything had changed, the link to the good people he had met and places he almost felt welcomed, was sleeping on a couch about a foot away from him.

* * *

Life at the Tonks' residence was very different than anywhere else they had been. There were more people staying there, and in smaller quarters. For Harry, it was a big adjustment. He wasn't used to having people around all of the time and no place to go if he wanted to be alone.

Harry had come to expect the sudden explosions of noise when Tonks tried to move around the house, but it still made him jump and he always checked to make sure it wasn't a Death Eater finally penetrating their defenses and that Tonks was alright. He usually managed to keep from assuming the worst and spilling his drinks now, though.

Since he and Hermione were sharing the living room to sleep (Harry still insisted that she use the couch), they had more of a chance to talk, too. He liked that- talking to her before he went to sleep every night, even if sometimes it was only to say goodnight. Usually they would stay up later after the others had gone to their rooms and talk, too. Because it wouldn't be that difficult for someone to overhear them from the hallway, topics like Horcruxes and Gringott's were usually off of the list. Harry preferred it that way, though- not talking about those things right before sleep. Unfortunately, he was still having nightmares at least once a week, and a few times he had even woken Hermione. But it was less often than it had been at least, and for that, he was thankful.

The first day there, Harry and Hermione had visited the prisoners to see if they could get any help or information. However, both of them had been difficult: Griphook refused to help them, and Mr. Ollivander didn't seem too keen to give them information, either. They tried talking to the goblin first and left shortly after, feeling less decidedly hopeful. After a lot of convincing, the wand-maker told them why Voldemort had imprisoned him; he was worried about the bond between his and Harry's wands- evidently he had found out about that. Also, after Harry mentioned it, he admitted that he believed in the Deathly Hallows.

"_He asked you about the wand, didn't he?" Harry asked._

_The man's hesitation gave Harry his answer._

"_What do you know? What did you tell him?" Harry asked urgently._

"_He tortured me…" he sighed, looking weary. "He knows of its existence, but I did not, and do not, know where it is."_

"_You gave him an idea, though?" Harry pressed._

"_He had my granddaughter… What I told him was merely speculation…" regret was etched across his face as plain as his wrinkles._

_Harry felt Hermione's eyes on him, waiting to see how he would continue._

"_I understand, Mr. Ollivander," Harry said. He hoped his voice conveyed how he felt: he understood why the man told him- he did not judge him for giving up the information- but it was certainly not good that he had._

"_But he has found the wand," Harry told him._

"_What?" Hermione asked immediately._

"_I know," Harry answered her simply, his eyes not leaving the man's face._

"_Then it may be too late…" Mr. Ollivander said gravely. "You may not have a chance."_

"_I guess I'll have to think of something clever, then," Harry answered in a neutral tone that sounded just a little too forced. "I'm not going to sit around and wait for him to find me._

* * *

"Hermione, why are we just sitting around waiting for him to find me?" Harry whined for the second time that day.

"Harry, I told you this morning- we need to wait for this potion to be done before we can try to break into Gringott's. We're lucky enough Andromeda had all of the supplies," Hermione answered impatiently, not taking her eyes off of the cauldron and book in front of her. "If you have any better ideas…"

Harry held up his hands in defense.

"Alright, alright… I know. I just hate sitting around and not being able to do anything, especially now that we finally got Griphook to agree to help us. Poor Dobby has the worst job, trying to get a piece of that vile woman."

Hermione finally looked up at Harry. His hair was as messy as ever, even more so since Tonks had trimmed it last week. The expression on his face exuded restlessness and boredom. Before long, the eager, pleading look in his bright green eyes won her over, and she couldn't stop the smile that quirked the corners of her lips up slightly.

"Oh, Harry, it will be done soon," Hermione said to him in a placating tone. "For now, why don't we practice the Patronus?"

He noted how she had already started cleaning up her books and notes.

"'We'? Hermione, you've been able to do the charm for a while now… I'm pretty sure you don't need to practice."

"Of course I do! I _still _haven't made a true, corporeal Patronus. And I want to get better at controlling it and learn to-"

"-make it perfect?" Harry finished, smirking at her in a teasing way. "You won't be happy until you have it dancing around the room serving us hot cocoa."

She shot him a dirty look in response, but he didn't fail to notice the smile she was clearly trying to hide.

He grinned and she rolled her eyes. Then she huffed as if she was offended, and turned away from him.

There was a great crash and they hurried to see if Tonks was okay.

She was fine, so Harry helped her to her destination as Hermione magically repaired whatever she had broken this time.

The routine they had fallen into was almost comfortable, and it might've been, without six Horcruxes and the thought of breaking into a bank full of goblins looming over them.

Harry found that he liked Tonks a lot. He helped her around often and loved to listen to her stories with Hermione. Conversations were certainly more lively and fun when Tonks was around, too. She, Harry, and Hermione had spent an entire afternoon talking about how she could change her appearance at will, and all the trouble she had gotten out of, and into, because of it.

Tonks was easier to get along with than her mother, who was kind, but more serious and stern. She often seemed preoccupied or busy. After a little while there, Harry found out why: her husband was on the run; Death Eaters had spotted him when he was out on a trip somewhere one day. They hadn't heard from him recently, so understandably, her worry for him was often on her mind, though she never mentioned it to them.

Harry was still frustrated about having difficulty with the Patronus Charm. He was barely producing a mist, let alone a specific shape. Wondering what kind of animal form his Patronus would take kept his mind occupied sometimes while Hermione was busy reading or working on the potion. He certainly wasn't the only one annoyed about their attempts to learn the spell, though. Hermione was also having a hard time with it, and from the way she was acting, he had a strong suspicion that this might be the first time that had ever happened. Normally Harry picked things to do with magic up pretty quickly, too, but other times he had to work at it.

Harry was sure that if they kept practicing Hermione would get it eventually, but he wasn't so hopeful for himself. Happy memories for him were few and far between, and with the tasks that now lay before him, he doubted that was going to change any time soon.

With a resigned sigh that came along with his dreary outlook regarding the spell, he stood to join Hermione. He was glad to at least have something productive to do.

But this time was different.

As he searched his memories, the thoughts he had the first night at the Tonks' house came to him- the feeling that he belonged allied with these people, and could believe in them, and their cause. And his wand started to produce steady mist. Then he thought of how it all came back to Hermione, and for the first time, the silvery mist coming out of his wand when he tried the spell looked bright, more solid; powerful.

Harry looked up to find Hermione beaming proudly at him and felt his confidence soar, knowing he had caused her radiant smile.


	15. Fever

Hi! Thank you so much for the support! It is really awesome to read reviews and hear that people like my story.

Also, I have been thinking about adding chapter titles instead of just the boring 'Chapter 15' thing, so the other day I went through and tried to name them. It was more difficult than I expected, but it was fun, too. Just a heads up in case I do decide to change them. Hope you enjoy this chapter; I found it kind of amusing.

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**Chapter 15: Fever  
**

One day in early February, Hermione was sitting on the sofa reading when she sneezed for the third time.

"Hermione, are you alright?" Harry asked, looking over at her from his spot on a nearby chair.

"Yes, I'm fine," Hermione answered, trying to go back to her book with little success as she started coughing.

"Hermione, really..." Harry moved over to sit next to her on the couch and gently took the book from her hands. Setting it down on an end table, still open to her last page, he turned back to her.

"Who is making all the fuss?" Andromeda asked as she entered the room. "It can't very well be my daughter, because I was just with her."

With one look at Hermione, she said, "Oh, poor Hermione. Why didn't you tell me you were sick? I'm sure I have a potion around here somewhere that I can give you to ease the symptoms." Then she quickly retraced her steps out of the living room.

Harry gave Hermione a look as she shivered.

"You're fine, huh?" Harry shook his head. He reached behind them and pulled the blanket off of the couch, unfolding it and handing her one side, throwing the other around her shoulders.

"Thank you," Hermione said in a quiet voice.

"Well," Andromeda said as she came back, "we don't have much in stock unfortunately." She gave Hermione a look of apology. "I should really keep it in case Dora gets sick… with her being pregnant, it could be more dangerous since we don't know what you've got."

"Yes, you're right. Don't worry, I'm sure I will be fine," Hermione said.

"I'm afraid you and Harry are still going to have to share the living room. But you'll to have to be extra careful to stay out here… we don't want everyone else getting sick." She conjured a sort of temporary, paneled wall partition in the open area between the living room and the hallway which led directly to the kitchen. Then she eyed Harry for a moment. "You might not have much of a chance, but we can hope for the best. Would you mind taking care of her? I've got Dora to look after, and my daughter is certainly a handful right now. I would feel more comfortable not being near both of them in case I pass it along."

"Err, sure, no problem," Harry answered with as much confidence as he could muster. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Oh, Harry, I'll be alright," Hermione tried to assure him. "If I really need anything I can just ask you to go and get it for me. I won't bother you much."

She seemed uncomfortable at the idea of making him wait on her.

"Alright, then," Harry told her. "That shouldn't be too tough."

"Good," Andromeda said. "I'll just be down the hall then, let me know if you need anything, Harry."

The older woman walked around her makeshift divider and out of sight.

Harry felt strange; he wasn't usually put in charge of anything. He wasn't used to being responsible for someone else. All he had ever done before was take food to prisoners when he was directed to. Now it was like he was being left to watch over a pet or a young child… a very independent one who didn't like having someone else told to look after her.

Hermione rolled her eyes, telling Harry that it was probably just a cold that would pass in a day or two.

For once, Hermione had been wrong.

The next day hadn't been much different, other than Hermione sneezing more than before and asking Harry how in the name of Merlin he wasn't freezing without a jacket or a sweatshirt or a blanket.

The day after, Hermione seemed to be getting worse. Harry noticed that she still looked cold off and on, and she kept fidgeting restlessly.

"How are you feeling?" Harry asked that evening.

"Not that great, I guess," Hermione answered in a disappointed voice.

She really looked miserable, sitting on the couch, a mass of blankets.

"Is there anything I can get you?" Harry asked. "Come on, what is it?" he prodded, noticing how she hesitated.

"Well, some tea would be nice," she told him quietly. "It might warm me up from the inside."

Harry smiled. He had never been around someone who so disliked asking others for something. His whole life had been quite the opposite; he had been ordered to fetched drinks, make food, get the remote, grab a book from the study, clean the entire house by dinnertime, mow the lawn, trim the hedges, and anything else whoever it was fancied for as long as he could remember. It was like that with the Dursleys, the Malfoys, and the Death Eaters, and they had certainly never been shy about telling him to do what they wanted.

With Hermione it was completely different. She seemed troubled having to ask him to get things for her or do things she shouldn't (like check on the potion, since she didn't want to get any germs near it just in case she was still contagious). Harry couldn't decide what bothered her more- not being allowed to do the things herself, or feeling like she was burdening him by asking him to do them. Whichever it was, she needn't worry about it so much, since Harry didn't mind helping her. But even though he had reminded her of this several times in the past two days, she still didn't look comfortable with requesting his assistance.

"Tea it is," Harry saluted her in a joking fashion, but the grimace he got in return showed her lack of amusement.

When Harry returned with the cup of tea and a biscuit, he offered it to her with a smile.

"Just like old times, eh?"

It took a few seconds for her to realize what he meant.

"Harry, that's an awful thing to joke about!" Hermione said, scolding him for trying to joke about her time at the Malfoy Manor when he brought her food.

After she took everything from him, he sat down next to her (and her blankets) rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

_Why would I bring up the times I brought her food while she was locked up as a prisoner? I doubt she wants to think about that! She was taken from her family and locked up in a dark dungeon, had hardly any food or water for days, and got tortured and almost killed afterward! Yeah, I'm sure that will cheer her up. I'm such an idiot._

"Sorry," Harry said in a disheartened tone. "I'm not trying to make it seem like- I just thought it might be funny that… well, I brought you food when I first… saw you, and now I'm bringing you food again…" Harry sighed, his hands coming to rest on his legs. "I shouldn't have brought it up. That was really stupid."

Hermione set her tea on the end table on her side before turning to Harry, who was looking at his hands dejectedly.

He watched as one of her hands grasped one of his. To his surprise, he didn't flinch; but he did worry his heart had stopped for a moment. He took a shaky breath and she started to speak.

"Harry, it's alright," she gave his hand a gentle squeeze for emphasis before removing it, at which point Harry swallowed the strange nervousness he felt. "I know you were only trying to cheer me up. Really, it's okay."

Harry looked at her warily before nodding uncertainly.

She made a face of discomfort and shed one of her blankets. Before Harry could ask if she was alright again she began talking.

"Is anyone else still up?" Hermione asked.

"No, I think they are all in their rooms now… why?"

"I just wanted to talk to you about something."

"Alright," Harry agreed, hoping she couldn't tell he was still uneasy.

For a moment, which she passed by removing another blanket, Hermione didn't seem sure of what to say.

"Was I the first prisoner while you were living at the Malfoys'?" she asked finally.

"No." He didn't elaborate.

"Was I the first one you had to… bring food and water to?"

"No," Harry answered, and sensing she wanted to know more, he tried to explain. "They didn't like tending to the prisoners, so they usually had me do it. Especially for the…" Harry trailed off, feeling his face heat up somewhat at the memory of having called her the word before- having addressed her with the hurtful, disgusting slur.

"…the muggle-borns?" Hermione guessed.

Harry nodded, his eyes trained down in front of him.

"You… snuck me extra food, after a few days, didn't you?" She was fairly sure that he had, but she wanted to confirm her theory.

"…why?" she asked, taking his uncomfortable silence as answer enough.

He shifted in his seat, still refusing to look at her.

"I… I don't know. You just… looked hungry," he answered lamely.

There was a pause before she asked her next question.

"Did you ever do that before, with the other prisoners?"

"No, I was afraid I'd get caught." Harry told her.

_Did I even seriously consider it before then? With her, I just… did it._

"Did you?" At his confused look, she added, "Get caught."

"Oh," Harry said, "no. It was mine, so they never noticed."

"It was yours?" Hermione asked, looking curious.

"My food- part of my meal," Harry explained, feeling stupid for some reason. He glanced in the direction of the kitchen, briefly wondering if he could make some excuse to get out of this conversation. It was pointless though; he would have to come back to the living room eventually.

She looked at him interestedly, not that unlike the expression she wore when reading one of her books or when she watched him catch his snitch from time to time.

_Wait, how do I know what sort of face she makes when she reads…?_

Thankfully to Harry, she dropped that line of inquiries and picked a different track.

"There was something else I've been wondering, too," she said, looking puzzled.

Harry waited for her to continue, trying not to look anxious.

"Do you know how You-Know-Who came back?"

Harry shuddered involuntarily. Did he? He had been part of it. He swallowed thickly. What was he supposed to tell her?

"I… yeah," he eventually got out, cringing at how his voice sounded.

Hermione studied him before ultimately deciding not to push him.

"It's alright, you don't have to explain," she said, now removing her final blanket. "I doubt it was a particularly pleasant experience. Is it warm in here all of a sudden? Am I hot?"

Harry jolted a bit at her question, sputtering, "Wha- what?" before realizing what she meant and quickly saying, "Oh, right," and reaching a hand over to check her forehead.

"It feels like you're burning up," Harry told her worriedly, removing his hand. "Do you want me to get Andromeda?"

"No, no," Hermione told him calmly. "The fever probably broke, that's all. If I feel worse or it doesn't go away, I will tell you and you can go and get her, alright?" Hermione added, seeing that the alarm had not faded from his face.

"Fine, if you're sure," Harry relented.

"I have been sick before, you know," Hermione told him with a small smile. Some of her skin was now shining slightly with sweat.

Harry made a face at her before saying he was going to get her water.

He nearly dropped the cup when he came back in the room to find her wearing guys' boxers (which he guessed were actually hers) and a tank top. When he had left the room, he was sure she had been wearing sweatpants and a sweatshirt. And her feet, which had been covered in two layers of socks, were now bare. Quickly recovering from being startled at her unexpected change of attire, Harry brought over the glass.

Her face looked flushed, and when Harry checked, he thought her forehead felt hotter. Harry felt his stomach squirm uncomfortably.

"Harry, I'm alright," she told him, seeming somewhat amused, if anything, that he looked so worried.

She drank some of the water, and he took the rest of the glass from her before setting it on the nearest end table.

"Here," Harry said, moving the blankets she had been using, "lay down."

She did as he instructed, gently lying back on the couch.

"I'll be right back, okay?" Harry asked.

"Sure," she said, scrunching her face slightly in discomfort.

Harry quickly returned with a small bowl and a washcloth in his hands. Harry knelt down next to her and set the bowl down on the floor. He dipped the washcloth in.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked.

"Helping," Harry answered uncertainly, "I think."

He wrung it out enough so that it stopped dripping before bringing the cool cloth hesitantly up to her forehead.

"I saw my aunt do this for Dudley when he was sick, once," he explained.

He arranged cloth on her head, pressing once or twice; trying to make sure it was in place properly, gently brushing her hair out of the way so that it wouldn't get wet.

His movements were a little shaky and tentative, but she could feel his kindness and concern.

Hermione was glad her face was already flushed- she was sure if it wasn't she would be blushing.

"Wotcher, Harry."

Harry's eyes darted to the source of the noise, meeting the twinkling eyes of a grinning Tonks, who was standing next to the divider. He leaned back from the couch, his hand flying away from Hermione on instinct, looking like a little boy who had been caught trying to sneak an extra cookie before dinner. His face clearly showed his confusion, not sure if he had done something wrong. Hermione looked just short of mortified. Tonks couldn't help laughing at the pair of them.

"I was just coming to check how you were feeling before I turned in for the night. Harry said you seemed worse earlier. Mum doesn't want me over here in case I get sick, but I think she's gone to sleep and I wanted to see how you were." She paused for a moment before eyeing them with a teasing smile. "It seems you're well taken care of."

Harry was sure his face had turned scarlet when Tonks shot a smirk in his direction.

"I'm feeling a bit better than I was," Hermione managed to reply a bit feebly. "I think my fever has broken."

"Good," Tonks told her sincerely. "Then I'll leave you to it, Harry."

Harry looked away from her as his heart kept up its elevated pace.

"Just behave you two," Tonks said, before turning to leave. "I know Hermione is sick, but you never know…"

"Tonks!" Hermione finally protested, at the obviously suggestive comment, causing the washcloth to slide off of her forehead.

Tonks laughed quietly and assured them she was only having some fun with them before leaving the flustered teens.

There was an awkward silence.

"S-sorry," Harry stammered, grabbing the washcloth from where it landed on the couch and setting it aside.

"No, it's alright," Hermione answered, though her voice still sounded nervous, too. "You don't have to apologize; you didn't do anything wrong. The cold cloth felt good- it helped."

There was a noise from the hallway and Harry just about jumped a foot. Apparently someone had gone into the bathroom.

"Harry, relax," Hermione told him gently. "Do I still feel as warm?"

After she asked, she realized that the currently embarrassed Harry might be opposed to checking, which was confirmed by the startled look on his face when he heard her suggestion. It faded quickly, though, and he reached up to see if her head felt as warm.

"No," Harry said after a moment, "no, you don't feel as warm." Then he added, "I wonder if it's just because of the cold cloth. What if that made the skin cooler there?"

Considering this Hermione asked, "Well, does my neck feel warm?" in a tone that sounded as if she was asking him about the weather.

Harry blinked. He blinked again.

He leaned over again and laid his hand on her neck softly.

"It's not that warm," Harry reported.

_It is sort of warm… but I think that's normal. It doesn't feel hot like her forehead did when the fever was worse. It feels…_

His eyes met hers, and he felt her heartbeat quicken under his fingertips- wait, _felt._ He hurriedly removed his hand, and leaned back, saying, "Yeah, you definitely don't feel as hot as- as when the fever was bad."

"Good," Hermione said, looking maybe a tiny bit flustered.

"Should we, err, get some sleep now, then?" Harry asked, rearranging the blankets so that he had his normal spot on the floor next to her couch.

"Yes, we probably should; it must be getting late," Hermione answered in a more normal voice.

"Do you… want a blanket at all, or no?" Harry asked.

"Oh, yes, please. Now that the fever has gone away I actually feel a bit chilly again."

Harry picked out one of the lighter blankets she had been using and swiftly draped it over her.

"Thanks."

Harry nodded and went back to fixing the rest of the blankets into his own pile before getting the lights off and lying down. Within seconds he noticed something unusual; something smelled different. He moved one of the blankets closer to his nose and found that it smelled faintly like Hermione.

_This must be one of the ones she was using earlier._

"Goodnight, Harry," she said, breaking his train of thought before it had really formed.

"Goodnight, Hermione."

He smiled and closed his eyes, a funny feeling still swirling around within him as he let himself drift off to sleep.


	16. Of Guilt and Sacrifice

Here's the next chapter. Thanks for reading!

* * *

**Chapter 16: Of Guilt and Sacrifice  
**

For the second time in less than an hour, Tonks nearly fell after tripping over Harry's makeshift bed of blankets.

"I told you to let me move them!" Harry protested loudly. "One of these times you're going to hurt yourself!"

Ignoring Harry, she looked at Hermione, who was snickering at her clumsiness, with a mischievous smile.

"Wait until you're pregnant, you'll see." Her smile grew as Hermione blushed scarlet at her following words, "Hopefully your husband will be able to be there, to pick up all the pieces in your wake." She glanced at Harry, not trying to be discrete.

"Tonks!" Hermione said indignantly.

Grinning at the pair of them with a guilty look on her face, she waved a hand indifferently and left the living room.

The last few days had certainly been fun for Tonks, who quickly saw that she could get a rise out of them if she even hinted at something suggestive.

They looked at each other and both breathed out a sigh in accidental unison; Hermione with an eye roll, Harry without.

Smiles slowly spread on their faces at having sighed at the same time.

Within seconds they found themselves laughing.

* * *

"Hermione?"

Harry's voice pulled her from her thoughts as they sat on the couch, relaxing after practicing the Patronus Charm.

"Hmm?" Hermione acknowledged, her mind still wondering.

"Is it alright if I ask what memory you use?"

Hermione regarded him for a moment before answering.

"Sure," she said, "I've tried loads of different things though, while we've been practicing."

"Well, the ones that worked the best, then," Harry requested.

"Alright," Hermione's face became thoughtful before she answered. "Some memories with my parents have worked pretty well: memories of holidays with them, vacations, birthdays, everyday life… just being with them in general, but… I don't really think those are going to work now."

Noticing the change in her tone, Harry was quick to ask, "Why not?"

She hesitated for a few moments before answering, not looking at him.

"Usually I lose focus. I remember that I don't know whether or not they are still safe… I start to worry about where they are and if they're okay now and it interferes with my concentration on happier times with them in the past."

Guilt seeped into Harry's chest and he felt it tighten painfully. It was his fault she didn't know if her parents were safe or not; his fault she was here, with him, instead of hiding away safely at Lupin's or wherever they were now. He shouldn't have let her come. Why should she have to sacrifice and put herself in danger to help him? Without meaning to, he clenched his fists.

"It isn't your fault, Harry."

Her words reached through his thoughts, and shocked him back to the present.

_How did she know what I was thinking?_

Either she really could read his mind, or his face must have showed his surprise at her comment.

"I could tell by the way you tensed up. That's what you were thinking, right?" she asked, but he felt like she already knew the answer.

"You shouldn't have to be here," Harry said in a low voice, looking away from her. "You should be with your parents- where it's safe."

"I don't _have _to be here, Harry; I chose to be. It isn't safe for me, or any of us, until this war is over. You can't do this on your own. You need help, and I'm going to help you," she paused for a moment to let that sink. Then, in a tone that left no room for arguments, she added, "And you're just going to have to accept that."

Silence filled the room for a short stretch of time until Harry spoke up.

"I-" Harry started to speak in a quiet voice before knowing what exactly he planned to say. "Remember when you asked about how You-Know-Who came back?"

Hermione nodded, letting him continue.

"I was… part of it," Harry admitted to her quietly.

He just barely heard the sharp intake of breath, and when he glanced at her face, he saw the surprise in her eyes. Even in the dim light covering the living room during the quietly waning evening hours, he was sure he saw fear.

He looked down before continuing.

"It was a few years ago. Wormtail came to Malfoy Manor and grabbed me- brought me to some graveyard. There was a big black cauldron between the tombstones with some sort of potion brewing in it. He bound me to a statue. He said it was so I wouldn't run away when things got interesting."

Harry took a shaky breath before continuing.

"He… took bones out of a grave there, You-Know-Who's father's, I think; put them in the cauldron. And… then he sliced off his own hand. That went into the cauldron, too. After that… he walked over to me. He was saying an incantation- might've been directions to the potion- and he ripped open the sleeve of my shirt. He pulled out a knife and made a cut down my forearm… then… he took the blood, my blood, and added it to the cauldron, too."

Harry noticed his hands trembling slightly now, but forced himself to keep talking.

"A minute later, he tossed something else in the cauldron and You-Know-Who just sort of… rose out of it. Thin black robes formed around him, and Wormtail gave him his wand. He must've told him about me, because You-Know-Who didn't seem at all surprised I was there. That was the first time he talked to me, in that graveyard. He told me he was glad I was part of the ritual and apologized for Wormtail's rough treatment of me. He…"

Harry's shaking hands fisted the fabric of his pant legs from their position near his knees.

"He told me that he was proud of me- no one had ever told me that before- and he said my parents would be proud, too; proud that I was helping him." Harry shook his head in anger and disgust. "He said he understood me and that he had often felt alone growing up, too."

Harry hardly noticed Hermione's hand gently coaxing the hand closest to her open soothingly as she listened.

"I never really trusted him," Harry told her with what he hoped was certainty in his voice. "But I did believe him… most of it, anyway. I might've even believed in him."

"I just don't see how I could've, looking back."

Before Hermione could say anything, he spoke again.

"And he needed me to come back; he said so himself. It's my fault. Everything. All the people dying, all the families ripped apart. And it's up to me to stop him, and I don't even know what the hell I'm doing!"

"Harry," Hermione cut in firmly.

He stopped talking, but the tension and emotions warring inside him fought on, and his muscles remained taut.

"This is not your fault." Her voice demanded it though it was steady and calm. "Him coming back isn't your fault- none of it is."

Harry noticed the tight grip of her hand on his as she spoke.

"He used you- _they _used you- just like so many others. What they did to you and what they forced you to do is not your fault, Harry."

Slowly, his fists released the crinkled fabric of his pants and the storm inside him subsided.

"I'm so sorry for what they did to you," Hermione said, her voice full of the pain he had felt moments ago.

For quite a while, neither of them spoke. She sat by his side and her hand stayed atop his, until they were both ready to move. Harry looked at her face for the first time since he had started the story. Contrary to his expectations, he found no fear or resentment there. In a sort of understanding, he nodded.

They got ready for bed in silence.

Harry felt drained. Speaking about those events out loud was almost like reliving them. As damaged and worn as he felt as he let his body rest on the blankets that night, inside he thought he might've felt just a little bit lighter.

"Goodnight," he whispered into the darkness.

"Goodnight, Harry," he heard Hermione whisper back.

Though it was soft, her voice held a tone he couldn't quite place.

* * *

The next day, Hermione was glad to be feeling a little better, at least. Her shivers and fidgeting had stopped, but she still felt groggy and had a headache. Harry had been sitting in a chair near the couch that evening, as he had been most of the day, reading a book she had lent him, when he heard a noise outside.

He immediately tensed. Putting the book down without a thought about losing his place, he picked up the wand sitting next to him. Even though it had been with him for a while now, he still didn't feel that comfortable with it.

Hermione had noticed and drawn her own wand, too.

With a quick glance at each other, they rose as one, wands pointed at the door. They waited for nearly a minute but heard no further noise. Then, there was a quick, quiet knock. Harry looked at Hermione again, who mouthed "Dobby" with an uncertain look on her face; it was more of a question than a statement.

"Get Andromeda," Harry mouthed back, hoping she could tell what he wanted. Given her adverse reaction, he figured she understood.

"Go!" Harry mouthed more forcefully, his expression urgent.

Hermione moved quickly and silently, and for a second, Harry's mind wandered enough to be thankful it wasn't Tonks out here with him.

Another knock snapped him back into focus. He could feel his heart beating rapidly in his chest, but he held his wand steady, still pointed at the door. A second later, Hermione rushed back into the room and to Harry's side, copying his stance. Andromeda walked to the door.

She knocked once. Then there came an answering knock. She knocked again, in a pattern. The outsider responded. This went on a few more times, Harry and Hermione never letting their guards down.

Finally, the old woman sighed with relief, and opened the door to reveal a dark figure.

He quickly stepped inside and Andromeda closed the door behind him.

Harry looked at him in the light. He wore a beige-brown, worn sort of jacket, and he had a weary expression on his scratched face. Before anyone could speak, the man's face broke into a genuine smile. Harry marveled at the look on his face and light in his eyes for a moment before turning to find the source of his happiness: Tonks.

In seconds, and without even tripping once, she crossed the room and walked into her husband's waiting arms. Seeing their embrace, the look on Lupin's face flickered back into Harry's mind. He didn't know if he'd ever seen that look on anyone before. It was an expression he didn't exactly understand or know how to explain, but he knew that whatever it was, it was powerful.

After they had all greeted Lupin, he turned to address Hermione.

"Hermione, I want you to know that your parents are safe," he told her in a kind voice. "But I'm afraid that is all I can say for now. I hope you understand."

"Of course," Hermione told him quickly. Harry noticed the pitch of her voice was a bit higher than usual. "Thank you so much for protecting them."

Lupin nodded.

"I went to check on Aberforth and he said that he had something for you… from Dobby." He held out a glass vial in Harry and Hermione's direction. Hermione took it carefully as Lupin asked, "Do I even want to ask what this is and what it's for?"

"No," Harry and Hermione surprised themselves by answering together.

Lupin looked confused. Tonks laughed lightly.

"Sorry," Hermione said, "but it might be better not to ask this time."

With a resigned sigh, Lupin shook his head.

"Alright, just don't go getting yourselves into trouble. You're both too important."

Harry was surprised by the sincerity in his voice. _Both._

Lupin stayed for the night. But not before he told them in a flat tone that he could only stay for one night. Everyone in the room could pick up how disheartened he was by this, even though he tried to mask it. He did promise to return soon to stay for a while soon, though. A quick shared look told Harry that Hermione was thinking the same thing he was- they wouldn't still be here when he came back.

Before heading off to the other rooms, he handed Harry and Hermione a large, folded piece of parchment. Harry wasn't sure what it was, but Hermione seemed to know. When he gave it to her, he said it was just in case.

"I can't believe he just showed up like that," Harry said to Hermione once everyone else had left the living room.

"Apparently it was really dangerous for him to- I heard Andromeda and Tonks talking in the kitchen earlier when I got up to use the bathroom," Hermione told him quietly.

"Why'd he do it, then?" Harry asked.

"He loves her," Hermione answered.

The way she said it was unsettling to Harry- like it was simple, a fact.

After a long pause, Harry voiced one of the thoughts on his mind.

"But why would he put her in more danger by coming to see her?"

Hermione studied him curiously before attempting to answer.

"Well, I'm sure he misses her. And she's pregnant with his child, so I think he is upset that he can't be with her and help out more. He must be worried about her, and the baby, with the war going on and everyone in hiding. Everything else is probably harder for him to handle without her there, too."

Harry considered this for a while after he ended the conversation and they had said goodnight.

He felt like he understood his parents' old friend a lot more, and he felt bad for his situation. This war was keeping them apart. By trying to help others, they were sacrificing more than Harry realized. Harry didn't know Lupin very well, but he could see the pain he was putting himself through by staying away from his wife. It was a strange thing for Harry to consider, being so hurt and torn simply because you were being kept apart from another person. Such feelings were foreign to Harry, but the pain and longing in the man's eyes when he thought no one was looking were not.

After a few minutes, the sadness Harry felt ebbed and was replaced by a fire he hadn't felt since he had seen Hermione being threatened and tortured. He was going to end this war; he was going to stop Voldemort. He had to.

* * *

Harry sighed into the darkness. Tomorrow, the polyjuice potion would be ready, according to Hermione. Time had passed while they were staying here, and Harry couldn't help thinking they hadn't made much progress. It had been about a month since they had fled the cave with Sirius and gone to Hogwarts, ultimately ending up here, with Tonks and her mother. He had a long way to go before being ready to face Voldemort, and in the back of his mind, Harry knew that with every passing day, more innocents were dying.

Closing his eyes brought him no peace that night. Visions of Voldemort's plans filled his dreams. He saw flashes of the Dark Lord torturing and killing, opening a tomb, speaking with the Malfoys about something he couldn't make sense of, and then talking alone with Snape.

Hogwarts entered his dreams. His dream took him through a life he had never known. As a Gryffindor returning for his final year, he was standing next to Hermione, smiling. Pinned to the front of each of their robes were badges, which Harry understood meant for them to be Head Boy and Head Girl. They parted and a while later, when they reunited in a different room, Hermione smiled and her eyes lit up. She walked to him and hugged him tightly. But then the image faded and they were outside, in front of Hogwarts. Suddenly dark clouds spread over the horizon. Voldemort's voice spoke in Harry's mind, telling him that this was wrong; it wasn't what his parents would have wanted. The cold voice hissed things about Hermione, warning him, telling him to leave her.

He woke up in a cold sweat, panting, and struggled to understand what had happened in his dream. And the emotions it evoked in him.


	17. The Wizarding Bank

Hey! I went through and added new chapter titles to all of the previous chapters, so you can check that out if you want. I will probably go through and edit the chapters to reflect it at the beginning (instead of just on the drop-down), too.

Thanks for reading and supporting the story! Let me know what you think if you have the chance. Hope you enjoy it!

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**Chapter 17: The Wizarding Bank  
**

Griphook was ready to go and impatiently waiting for them. They had already told Tonks that they were leaving without revealing too much of their plan and thanked her and Andromeda.

"Are you ready?" Hermione asked. "I just have to take the potion."

"Wait, just…" Harry panicked. He suddenly felt there was something important he needed to say to her before they left, but somehow he had forgotten to tell her. His eyes glanced to the grumpy goblin a foot away. Harry's face showed his distress as his mind raced.

_I need to make sure she knows… but how am I supposed to ask for a word with her, alone, without Griphook getting suspicious? He doesn't trust us as it is- it will look really bad if we walk away and start whispering. Goblin hearing is supposed to be pretty good, too. I need to think of something._

"Err, Hermione?" Harry looked thoroughly uncomfortable. "Could I… uh, just have a minute with you, alone, before we go?" His face was burning as the words stumbled out of his mouth. "We… might not come back, and I just… wanted to hold you… one last time."

_This is the only way. _

A confused look accompanied the blush that spread across her face for a split second before she played along.

She walked over to him, stopping right in front of him, before gently taking his hand and leading him away from the goblin. Making sure they were out of earshot, but still in Griphook's line of vision, she stopped. Then Hermione slowly stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Harry. With one hand she pulled his head down slightly, so that his lips were near her ear and out of the goblin's sight.

Harry was quickly filled with a storm of emotions. His breath hitched and he tentatively put his arms around her, pulling her a little closer. She could hear his uneven breathing with his mouth so close to her ear, and she thought she might feel his quickened heartbeat; though that might've been hers.

Harry was surprised she had understood that he needed to tell her something in private. Realizing he didn't have long, Harry struggled to find his voice.

"You know he might try to betray us, right?" he whispered into her hair.

"I know," she said back, not bothering to be as quiet as Harry since she was closer to the goblin. "It's okay."

He wasn't sure what else to say. All he had wanted was to make sure she knew and kept an eye on their guide. He didn't want to risk her letting her guard down at all and getting hurt, but he should have figured she knew better than that. Now that she was so close to him, the goblin didn't seem nearly as important, trustworthy or not. He felt that she was going to pull back soon, and the words left his lips before he had time to think about them.

"Be careful," he said in a quiet, concerned voice.

They both knew this was going to be extremely dangerous: breaking into a heavily guarded bank, with her disguised as an evil witch and him under a cloak with a goblin they didn't really trust. Getting in was going to be hard enough, but getting back out, with the Horcrux (if they even found one), was going to be even more difficult. Harry was starting to have serious doubts about their plan.

"I will," she answered. "Promise me you will be careful, too." Her arms tightened around him almost imperceptibly, but Harry noticed.

"I promise I'll try," he told her honestly. It was the best he could give. "I will be right there with you, even if you can't see me."

With that, they pulled back, looking at each other for a few seconds before averting their eyes, both feeling a little embarrassed as they let their arms fall away from the other.

They walked back to the waiting goblin, who eyed the pair suspiciously before departing with them.

Fearing the wards around the Tonks house might cause a horrible reaction with the polyjuice potion (as it was likely to have a spell to do something nasty to anyone who was trying to pose as someone they weren't), Hermione waited until they had gotten closer to their destination to take it.

It was sickening, watching Hermione walk back toward them looking exactly like Bellatrix Lestrange, the woman who had tortured and tried to kill her. A chill ran up Harry's spine uncomfortably.

Hermione's voice left Bellatrix's lips and Harry quickly cut her off.

"Your voice," he interrupted. "You sound nothing like her. You can't use your normal voice."

Hermione nodded and tried to adjust her voice accordingly.

A few minutes later they were standing outside the enormous doors of Gringott's Wizarding Bank.

Harry followed closely behind Hermione, his eyes darting between her transformed back and the goblins surrounding them. Currently they were all working quietly at high counters, but they were glancing around uneasily. For some reason, the air was tense. Harry guessed it was because of the human guards standing around. One of them had held a golden rod to check Hermione for any form of concealment. Luckily, Griphook had warned of something like this, and Harry acted quickly with a quiet Confundus Charm. He couldn't seem to remember if he had scanned Hermione or not, but believed it when she told him in a haughty and irritated impression of Bellatrix that he had already checked her. Looking bewildered, he had let her through with a few apologies.

The goblin riding on his back, Griphook, kept silent, but Harry noticed his peculiar smell under the invisibility cloak.

"Hello," Hermione said in a voice that sounded much more like Bellatrix's than before. The word "hello" still didn't seem quite right from the vile witch's lips, though.

The old, white-haired goblin looked up from his paperwork and peered at her through his small spectacles.

"I would like to get into to my vault."

_I hope they believe it's her…_

Harry noticed that the goblin she was speaking to seemed nervous. For a moment, he wondered if this was a normal reaction to Bellatrix.

After looking at her for a few seconds, the goblin still seemed unsure.

Harry noticed the two other human guards in the room eyeing Hermione suspiciously. He stained his ears to hear and focused his eyes on their lips.

"Bellatrix?" one was asking, "Ain't she still stuck at the Malfoys'?"

"I believe so…" the other answered, "but she might've been let out to go to her vault. We can't be sure."

His eyes surveyed the room while his counterpart nodded slowly.

"Should we get her?" the bigger guy suggested.

"No," the second said, "If it is Bellatrix, we wouldn't want to offend her- we need to be sure, first. And if it is an imposter… why not wait until she is on the way out?" He smirked. "She might bring us something nice."

"They know something is wrong," Harry heard Griphook whisper close to his ear in a raspy voice. "They must've been tipped off that there might be an imposter."

Harry returned his attention back to Hermione just as the bigger guard grinned stupidly.

"Oh, is this a new wand?" the goblin was asking her. He was holding Hermione's wand, examining it with interest. His hands were shaking.

"Yes," Hermione answered, thinking on her feet. "I had to… procure a new one. Mine was stolen by filth." Her voice held enough contempt to have a chance of being believable.

He handed the wand back and stepped off the ledge where he was working.

_He bought it? Yes!_

Harry couldn't believe their luck.

"Our good fortune may be short-lived. That is Bogrod. We need him to control the cart- I no longer work here. He is still uncertain of her identity," Griphook told him. Then he prodded Harry rather roughly with his foot to get him to follow Hermione and the old goblin faster.

Hermione climbed into the cart slowly, being sure to make extra noise as a cover for Harry, who was trying, with difficulty, to clamber into the small cart with a goblin on his back. Trying to make sure the cloak still covered both of them didn't make it any easier.

Once they got in, they had only a second to spare before Bogrod started the cart moving. Harry quickly checked that both he and Griphook were still covered and then glanced at Hermione's face. The hesitant, uncertain expression he saw there looked out of place on Bellatrix, and he could tell she was trying to mask it.

The cart made a sharp curve and jerked forward quicker and Harry held on with one hand. He slipped his other hand out from under the cloak to touch Hermione's, silently letting her know that he had gotten on with her and was still there. She flinched in surprise at first, but then shot a small smile of relief in his direction.

After another sharp curve, Harry heard a strange noise and his eyes shot up to see what looked like a waterfall in the middle of the tracks. He heard Griphook shout, "No!" half a second before they were all soaked as water splashed over them and into the cart.

"It is to rid the riders of concealments!" Griphook said through the water urgently, but trying not to be too loud.

Suddenly, Harry's stomach tightened uncomfortably as the cart flipped. Harry felt himself falling backward and panic seized him. He clutched his father's cloak in one hand and his other sought Hermione but never found her. Twisting in the air, he saw the ground approaching fast.

_There's no way we'll survive a fall like that._

Harry tried to brace himself, shutting his eyes tightly and… landed softly.

Feeling a bit sick from being flipped and falling, and thinking he was about to die, Harry pushing himself up enough to look around. This head was still reeling.

Hermione, who had landed next to him, said a little breathlessly, "Cushioning Charm."

Harry exhaled gratefully, thinking she was brilliant and meaning to tell her so. She was back to looking and sounding like herself. Harry smiled at her. Before he could speak, Griphook's harsh voice brought him back to the reality that they were still very much in danger.

"The Thief's Downfall," Griphook said loudly, "stun Bogrod!"

"Who are you?! Intru-" his word was cut off as Hermione stunned him, looking a little upset at having to knock him out.

"Right," Griphook said, "now we need to get the Clankers and bring him with us. I should be able to get us to the vault."

Harry stuffed his cloak into Hermione's beaded, magical bag and they followed Griphook's instructions and directions. There was an enormous dragon, who Griphook told them was partially blind and taught to fear the noise from the Clankers. Some of the sick feeling Harry had after the fall came back when he saw the dragon's face- it was covered in slash marks.

_They must be torturing it while they use the Clankers. This is… horrible._

Harry cringed as he watched the big dragon back away in fear, visibly shaking due to the noise they were making as they walked by. Seeing a similar look of disgust and sadness on Hermione's face, Harry felt better and worse at the same time.

Not long after, they found themselves in front of Bellatrix's vault. Griphook drug Bogrod over to the door and slid his hand across it. Within seconds, the door disappeared.

"Hurry, we must find what you need," Griphook urged, pulling the unconscious goblin in with him behind Harry and Hermione.

They cautiously walked into the vault. It was filled with gold and silver treasures, as well as animal heads and skins.

"How do we find it?" Hermione asked, more to herself than Harry.

"I dunno," Harry answered, his eyes roaming around the gold-filled room.

After walking a little further into the vault, Harry hesitated.

"I think I can… feel it," he said uncertainly.

Hermione gave him a confused look.

"Maybe it's like how I have visions of things he is doing sometimes- I don't know- I can just sense it. There's one in here somewhere."

He focused on the odd feeling he couldn't describe. His green eyes landed on a small cup on a shelf against the back wall of the vault.

"There," he pointed to the object. Walking forward, he heard Hermione's nervous voice telling him, "Be careful," as she followed him.

As soon as he started to climb the small mountain of shiny trinkets in front of the shelf, it started to slide out from under him and burned his foot. He drew back quickly. The objects he had just touched were splitting and dividing.

"Stop!" Griphook commanded. "It must be cursed!"

The goblin set Bogrod down and stepped forward. The door to the vault reappeared, closed.

"We can still use him to get us out," he said in a dismissive tone, gesturing to the unconscious goblin. "But the things in this vault are cursed: Gemino and Flagante curses. The objects you touch will multiply and make fake copies, and burn you."

"Then how do we get to the cup?!" Harry asked in an annoyed voice to no one in particular.

"I think I have an idea," Hermione suggested after a few moments.

Harry looked to her expectantly.

"Just… try to hold still and go with it," Hermione suggested, offering him a hopeful smile before pointing her wand at him. Harry swallowed nervously and nodded, letting her know that he was ready for whatever she was about to do.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" Hermione said, swishing her wand and ending with a flick.

Harry felt his feet lift off of the ground and he wobbled as he lost all sense of balance. Focusing on keeping as still as possible, he tried to allow Hermione to direct his body. As he floated a little higher, his arm touched something on one of the walls and burned harshly. He yelled out in pain for a second and watched as four, five, six suits of armor fell and added to the mass of objects in the vault.

"I'm sorry!" Hermione told him in a higher-pitched voice than usual. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Harry told her hurriedly, "just get me to that cup."

Harry awkwardly floated over to the shelf, trying to keep himself steady as Hermione's wand guided him deeper into the vault.

_Come on, reach!_

He stretched his hand out, and just as his fingers closed around one of the handles on the cup, he heard the clanging of metal behind him.


	18. The Flight and the Fall

Hi everyone. Hope you are still enjoying the story! Here's the next chapter. I'm pretty excited about the part I am writing now, and I think I have a solid outline for the rest of the story. I'm happy with it now, but the outline has changed before, though, so who knows. Some of the events to come might be surprising for a story set in the time of the seventh book (I hope). Thank you so much to everyone who is reading and supporting this story!

* * *

**Chapter 18: The Flight and the Fall**

Harry froze in mid-air, still suspended by Hermione's Wingardium Leviosa spell, his hand now clutching the first Horcrux they had managed to locate- a golden cup hidden in Bellatrix's vault at Gringott's. He tried not to think about the small mountain of treasure beneath him, which was cursed to burn white-hot and multiply whenever it was touched. There was another crash behind him and more clinking metal. Harry tried to look, but he had difficulty maneuvering floating in the air.

"The sword!" Griphook said in triumph. "Argh!"

More metal hitting the vault floor and bouncing along, duplicating.

"Ahh!" Hermione yelled. Harry suddenly felt the weightless feeling leave his body. He realized what was going to happen a second before he dropped into the pile of golden treasure beneath him.

Searing pain surrounded him on all sides and the pressure of the objects was starting to make it hard to breathe. He sank deeper into the pile; everything he touched was burning his skin and adding to the mass he was drowning in. He tried to move his arms and legs, but he was completely buried in metal.

"Harry!" he heard Hermione yell.

Her voice sounded muffled and distant.

His skin was being scorched in some places. He couldn't breathe.

He blinked his eyes furiously, but found he couldn't see anything but glints of treasure.

Suddenly, noise surrounded him and he felt his body shifting. Air began to fill his aching lungs as the pressure lessened, and he felt himself sliding backward on his stomach.

In a rush, the piles of treasure poured out of the vault like an avalanche.

"Harry!" he heard Hermione shout more clearly this time. Her hand grabbed ahold of his arm and she pulled him out of the heaps of cursed metal.

She laid him down on the floor again, a safe distance away from the objects that had been in the vault. Harry looked dazed.

"Oh, Harry…" she said in a voice that told him he must not look good.

"It's a fake!" he heard Griphook say in the background, followed by what he guessed was some colorful goblin language.

He tossed the sword he was holding aside and looked at them, obviously angry.

"What's going on?" Bogrod, who had evidently just come to, asked.

He was ignored, though, as Griphook ran over to Harry.

"If I can't have the sword, I'm taking this!" He snatched the cup, which was lying near where Hermione had pulled Harry out of the mess. With that, he made a run for it, turning the corner and disappearing from sight.

"No!" Harry shouted. "The cup!"

"That was the sword of Gryffindor! He said it was a fake?! What is that doing in Bellatrix's vault?" Hermione asked, getting to her feet and helping Harry up. He staggered and she said, "Harry, I don't know if you are in any condition to-"

"Hermione, later! Forget the sword if it's a fake- we need to get the cup!"

Bogrod, who had apparently run off after Griphook, was nowhere to be seen.

Together they went after the goblins, Harry struggling to keep up with Hermione. His arms were burnt pretty badly, and one of his legs was in a lot of pain. His lower back also felt like it was on fire, and Harry vaguely remembered his clothes sliding up some in the back as he was sinking into the growing pile of gold.

As they rounded another corner of the path, they saw Bogrod and Griphook struggling with the cup and what looked like a Clanker. Occasionally it made noise, but the fighting goblins were louder. They were near the edge of a large room.

There was a noise for the other side of the chamber and Harry looked over. His eyes widened as he saw the large, partially blind dragon. The red scars on its face, new and old, stood out against the pale white of its body and eyes unnervingly. Harry and Hermione stopped off to the side, frozen with shock, as the dragon approached the wrestling goblins.

Hermione instinctively tried to warn the goblins, but Harry stopped her.

"It's too late, and we don't want it coming after us instead," Harry told her.

He didn't like it, but there was nothing they could do now. He wouldn't let her put herself in danger for them.

One of the dragon's chains clanged loudly, but by the time Griphook and Bogrod realized what was happening, they didn't have a chance. The dragon took a quick, deep breath and exhaled a jet of fire. Harry felt numb for a few seconds as flames encased both of the goblins. Nothing was left of them except ashes. The Clanker was now melted. The golden cup- the Horcrux- however, remained.

"I'll distract it," Harry told Hermione suddenly, "you get the cup. Then we have to get out of here."

"No!" Hermione immediately protested. "Are you mad? You can't even walk normally, how to do you plan to avoid the fire?"

Harry didn't know what to say for a moment- he knew she was right, but it was the only idea he had.

"I'll distract it with noise. You get the cup. Then we can meet up and get out of here," Hermione said.

Harry hesitated. He didn't like the idea of her being the distraction.

"Go," Hermione urged as the dragon shot fire out again restlessly.

Harry turned and started toward the cup, eyeing the dragon warily.

Hermione's face became determined as she cast a whispered spell that hit the wall away from where Harry was headed. The dragon turned toward the noise like she had anticipated. She continued this way, keeping the dragon's attention away from them.

Harry grabbed the cup, and they were jogging to meet up when the dragon let out a loud roar and swept its tail across the room in a powerful swish. Harry's eyes widened as it missed him… and clipped Hermione as she tried to dive out of the way.

Adrenaline overrode Harry's pain as he ran to Hermione's side. He grabbed her wand where it had landed and absent-mindedly shot off a spell to cause noise on the opposite wall like Hermione had.

"Hermione!" he called, keeping his head enough to be quiet in his panic.

"Hermione, wake up!"

He rolled her from her side onto her back gently. His heartbeat was frantic and the cup lay next to her, forgotten.

Harry reached out with shaking hands to check her pulse. Relief washed over his as he felt her heartbeat under his fingers. The memory of when she had been sick and he touched her throat to see how hot she felt entered his mind; her pulse had been a lot faster and stronger then.

He pointed her wand at her chest.

"Innervate," he said, hoping it would wake her.

"Hermione?" he called again, this time taking a second to make sure the dragon hadn't noticed them.

Unfortunately, it had.

"Ha-Harry…?" he heard Hermione mumble quietly. Her voice helped to push away some of his anxiety.

Seeing that Hermione still wasn't fully awake, he made sure she still had her magic bag, put the cup in it, and swiftly slid his arms under her knees and back. Lifting her was surprisingly easier than he had expected, but his burns ached where her body touched them, and his leg didn't appreciate the added weight.

Looking at the dragon, he saw it coming in their direction. Her wand was still awkwardly in his right hand, which her knees were resting on. He pointed it at the far wall as Hermione had and cast a spell. This confused the dragon long enough to stop it from breathing fire at them, at least.

Harry put more distance between them and the dragon, but he heard voices getting closer.

_The goblins must know something is wrong by now. They're going to stop us for escaping! We need a way out._

"Harry?" Hermione said from her spot against his chest.

He looked down at her. She looked more awake now.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked her hurriedly, ducking behind a broken bit of stone wall.

"Yes, I think so," she said. "My head hurts, but I think I'll be alright." A few seconds later, she added, "You can put me down now; I can walk."

"Oh, err, right," Harry said. The voices drawing nearer snapped him back into focus.

"We have to get out of here. The goblins are coming," Harry told her in an urgent tone. "Are you sure you are alright? I have an idea, but it's mental."

"I'm fine," she assured him. "And I'm listening."

Her trust gave him more confidence in his idea. He handed her wand back to her, which she took, thanking him.

"Follow me," he told her, and jogged off toward the dragon with difficulty.

He climbed up on a pile of rubble from the spells they had cast earlier and leapt onto the dragon's back. Grabbing onto a spike on its back, he held on tight and reached his other hand toward Hermione.

She looked at him like he was crazy, and paused, before copying him and jumping forward, catching his outstretched hand. He pulled her up so that she could hold on, too. The dragon didn't really seem to notice their presence through its thick scales. Once she had a good hold, Harry let go of her to reach around and get a good angle for his spell.

"Relashio!" he said, pointing his borrowed wand at the cuffs chaining the dragon in place.

The dragon roared loudly, seeming to realize some of its bindings were gone. It jerked one of its other legs and broke a second chain, nearly throwing Harry off. Hermione managed to break the third cuff, and the dragon made quick work of the fourth. Harry repositioned himself so that he could hold on to the spike and Hermione again.

Spreading its large wings, which had been long unused, it began to fly. Hermione aimed her wand at the ceiling and said, "Defodio" blasting a hole open for the dragon. Its weak, unsteady flying caused it to skim the large opening on Harry's side, tearing his jacket and scratching up his arm painfully.

Harry goaned in pain but managed to hold on.

Goblins were scurrying around, yelling and looking terrified when they saw the dragon.

It must've heard them because it shot fire in the direction of the voices. The goblins seemed to avoid it this time, since flying didn't help the dragon's aim. Harry couldn't blame it for trying, though; these goblins had been torturing it for what seemed like a long time.

Minutes later, they were soaring above, and occasionally into, the clouds. The ride was a bit rough, which Harry figured was due to the fact that the dragon hadn't been able to fly for so long. But rough or not, Harry thought it was amazing.

"I can't believe we actually made it out of there," Harry mused.

He looked over at Hermione, who was gripping the dragon tightly and had her face partly buried in her arm.

"Hey, you okay?" Harry asked her.

Her eyes found his.

"I- I just really don't like flying," she admitted. "This is even worse than a broom," she said, laughing at herself a little when she saw the look on his face, "much less smooth."

"Are you kidding?" he asked her. "You don't like flying?"

"Well… not really," she confessed. "Brooms aren't for me. I'm much better handling a wand."

Harry laughed and she gave him a look.

"Well maybe if we get the chance I can teach you how to fly properly," Harry offered. "It's one of the few things I might actually be better at than you."

He grinned when Hermione didn't seem to know how to respond to that.

They remained quiet for a while afterward, just holding on and enjoying (in Harry's case) or strongly disliking (in Hermione's) the ride.

As the adrenaline faded and Harry's mind no longer had anything major and life-threatening to focus on, he began to notice once again the searing pain in parts of his body from the burns. His arm wasn't feeling that great either, but he noticed that it wasn't bleeding too badly; it mostly just looked scraped up and raw in spots. He clenched his teeth and tried to concentrate on holding on, wondering where the dragon would take them.

After hanging on to the injured dragon quietly for a while, Harry heard Hermione speak again.

"It looks like we're slowing down," she said against the wind, "and getting lower."

Harry turned to look down as well as he could while keeping a firm grip and noticed that she was right. They were now flying over a large body of water, but the dragon seemed to be running out of steam.

"I think it's getting tired," Hermione guessed. "It probably hasn't flown in ages- I'm surprised it managed to get this far."

Harry agreed. They must be quite a ways from the Wizarding Bank now.

"What are we going to do then?" Harry asked, turning back to Hermione.

She looked a little sick.

"We might have to jump while we're over the water."

Harry nodded.

_Better than crashing into the ground with an exhausted dragon who might decide he's worked up an appetite after his daring prison break._

"Then let's go on three," Harry said.

"Alright," Hermione agreed, though she didn't look happy about it.

"Ready?"

"Not really," Hermione muttered unnecessarily, making a face. Harry doubted that answer was going to change any time soon.

"One."

He took a quick look down to make sure they were definitely over the water and would still be in a few more seconds.

_Damn, we're still pretty high… but soon we'll be over land- we can't wait. This is going to hurt; especially where I'm already beat up. Just have to make sure I tuck my arms in and don't land on my back._

"Two."

His eyes locked on Hermione's.

Surprised that he could discern some of the emotions in them, he held her gaze. He saw fear, uncertainty, bravery, trust.

Finally, not looking away from her warm, brown eyes, he prepared to let himself fall.

"Three."

Her eyes remained on his bright green ones for a second longer before they both let go of their fears, slipping back until they were falling.

Harry caught a glimpse of her before he closed his eyes.

She was falling with him.

The thought comforted him as tried to prepare for the impact.

Fear. Uncertainty.

Bravery.

Trust.


	19. Drowning

Thank you to everyone who is reading and supporting this story. I know this is a pretty quick update; last night I actually decided to post another chapter today because of some nice reviews.

Reading positive or helpful, constructive reviews is really awesome, so thank you to everyone how has taken the time to leave them. I hope you like how I wrote this chapter. I wasn't sure about some of it, but I think it turned out alright.

* * *

**Chapter 19: Drowning**

Harry crashed into the ice-cold water, and pain flooded his senses.

He knew hitting the water was going to hurt, especially since he had a few fresh burns and injuries. He thought he was prepared for how much.

He thought wrong.

Shocked by the unexpected intensity of the stinging in his open burn wounds, Harry gasped. Apparently the automatic response to cry out from pain did not care that he was underwater at the time.

Frigid water surged into his mouth, burning his throat and choking him. Opening his eyes, all he could see were the bubbles spilling out of his mouth and more being caused by his flailing. He forced himself to stop sucking in water and tried to determine which way was up.

Darkness started to creep into his vision, and he could feel his consciousness slipping. Fighting to try to keep his eyes focused, he tried to find the surface. His head swam and he could feel himself sinking down deeper. The sound of blood rushing filled his ears and his limbs stopped thrashing. All of the energy was draining from his body fast.

_Hermione… _

He was vaguely aware of something hitting his arm.

A noise reached his ears, but it sounded far away.

Everything went black.

* * *

He felt a faint pressure on his chest.

There was a strange noise like a sharp intake of breath.

Harry's eyes opened to reveal Hermione's face surprisingly close to his. She was leaning over him so close that his eyes immediately found hers. She froze. His breath hitched in his throat as his heart stopped, only to return a second later, pounding faster than normal. Her hair was dripping wet, and her breathing was heavier than usual. And she was very close to him.

For a few moments, neither of them moved. It registered in Harry's mind that one of her hands was resting on his chest, right near where his heart was all but hammering its way out of his ribcage. Belatedly realizing that she must have noticed the racing muscle, Harry felt self-conscious.

He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a bit of water, causing him to choke and cough.

Hermione quickly pulled him into a sitting position, patting his upper back.

"Harry, are you alright?" she asked in a worried tone once his coughing had subsided somewhat.

"Yeah," he answered breathlessly. "Yeah, I think I'm alright. What happened?"

"I'm not sure. We let go of the dragon and fell into the water. I got to the surface, but you didn't come up. I couldn't see you anywhere. I panicked and dove back under to try to find you. It was hard to see, but somehow I found you and pulled you to shore." Hermione still seemed to be catching her breath.

"At first it didn't seem like you were breathing normally. I thought I was going to have to resuscitate you, but then you just… woke up. I'm so glad you're alright." She did look relieved.

Harry's mind was slowly processing and half-remembering what she was telling him. He noticed Hermione's cheeks were tinted red.

_Resuscitate… as in mouth to mouth?_

Harry swallowed thickly, feeling a bit nervous.

"So…" he said awkwardly, "you didn't have to, then? I woke up on my own?" For some reason he found it important to clarify.

"Yes," Hermione answered. "I pushed on your chest a few times, and then when I leaned down to… well you just woke up."

He could tell she was a little embarrassed from the situation- he was, too.

_There's no reason to be embarrassed about that. She was trying to get me breathing again. But I came to. Either way, she got me out of the water. She saved my life. Again._

Harry mentally shook off his awkwardness and smiled at her.

"Thanks, Hermione," he told her sincerely.

When she smiled in response, Harry noticed that she was shivering. Only then did he realize how cold he was, too.

Their icy, wet clothes were not helping the situation.

Hermione took care of that quickly, casting a drying spell on them. While it was a big improvement, Harry was still cold, and he bet she was, too. They walked inland and transfigured a new tent as fast as they could. Since they didn't have much to work with, it wasn't as nice as the other tent they had shared. When they were done, they lit a small, controlled fire inside to warm up.

They sat on a blanket on the floor of the tent, sitting close to the fire, and each other. It was quiet for a while, as they were both lost in their own thoughts.

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione said suddenly, startling him and breaking the silence. "Your arm! And the burns! I need to heal you. How could I have forgotten?" She seemed flustered and annoyed with herself.

The next half an hour was spent with her treating his injuries as he sat there gritting his teeth and trying to be still. Once she was done, Harry did feel better, but he knew he would still need some time to heal. Then he noticed a nasty-looking burn on her right arm.

"Your arm…" Harry trailed off. He knew he had been burned in the vault, but he should've realized that Hermione might have been touched by the cursed treasure, too. "Let me help," he offered.

Hermione seemed unsure before nodding and saying that he could give it a try. Harry reached over and gently pulled the torn sleeve back away from the injured area. It looked really painful. Harry winced involuntarily and his eyes flickered to hers. He grabbed his borrowed wand and pointed it at Hermione's arm, but he hesitated.

"This wand still doesn't work that well for me," Harry said uncertainly. "I don't want to hurt you."

"Here," Hermione said, reaching around and producing her own wand, "try using mine."

Harry discarded the other wand and took hers. It felt different in his hand than the other wands he had used- not quite like his own wand had felt, but it still felt comfortable; for some reason he was confident that it would work well for him.

With Hermione's wand pointed at her injured arm, Harry carefully repeated the spell she had used on him several times. When he was done, her arm still looked painful. Harry looked down, wishing he was as good at spells as her. He was sure she had done a better job with his burns.

"Thank you, Harry," she told him kindly.

She smiled at him when he looked up and Harry didn't feel as bad.

"So… we got the Horcrux," Harry confirmed, "and then, we sort of found the sword of Gryffindor… but it ended up being a fake?"

Hermione considered this thoughtfully for a moment before responding.

"Yes, and it seems so. Griphook must have known it was a fake. He wouldn't have rejected it if he wasn't sure."

When she didn't continue, Harry asked, "What was a fake of the sword left to me by Dumbledore doing in Bellatrix's vault?"

"I don't know…" Hermione said. Her face held an expression of frustrated concentration as she tried to put the pieces together. "I can't see any reason why Bellatrix would put a fake in her vault. If You-Know-Who knew the sword would help you, and he somehow got it and was trying to hide it with one of his Horcruxes… that would make sense. But then why was it a fake…?"

They let that question hang in the air several minutes, since neither of them had an answer. Eventually, Harry spoke.

"Maybe they didn't know it was a fake?" Harry suggested.

"That is possible. Goblins are known for their metalwork. I've read about goblin-made objects being enchanted with powerful magic." Hermione thought for a moment, "Maybe goblins can tell based on that magic or the craftsmanship whether or not something was actually made by one of their own. As for why it would have been in Bellatrix's vault, we can't be sure. There are so many possibilities…"

"Well, even if we don't know why, the important things are: we got the Horcrux, and we still have no idea where the real sword is," Harry summed up.

"I suppose so, but I can't help but feel like we might be able to find the real sword if we knew why there was a fake in her vault." She didn't seem to want to give up talking about possible theories behind the counterfeit sword, but seeing how tired Harry looked, she let it go for the time being.

"But for now, at least we made it out of there together," she said.

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "Let's get some rest."

"You sleep first," Hermione told him in firm voice. "You almost drowned. I will be fine staying awake for a while."

Not having the energy to argue, and knowing he would lose this one anyway, Harry simply thanked her and moved to his cot.

* * *

_He was standing in a long, dark hallway. Acutely aware of everything around him, his ears listening for the slightest echo of sound, Harry walked forward. The wand in his hand gave him strength- he had been through so much with this wand. It had been the only comforting constant in his life for years, even though he had been forced to use it to do things he would rather forget._

_The room shifted to another, with incredibly tall shelves. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of small glass orbs surrounded him. His feet moved automatically as his eyes searched for the numbers he had been told._

_Several minutes later, he was running as fast as he could, his wand in one hand occasionally shooting spells behind him. In the other, he was tightly clutching what he had come to retrieve: a prophecy. Jets of light were flying past him, and he knew fierce battles were taking place all around him. It was surreal._

_A flash and Harry was on his knees, the broken prophecy in from of him, glass shattered and magic gone._

_He saw rage and fury and a blinding wrath. Voldemort had not been merciful about this failure._

Harry's eyes opened into the dimly lit tent. The fire had turned to embers and Hermione was nowhere to be seen. He expected that she was outside keeping watch.

Trying to calm his breathing, Harry lied there for some time, shaking. He remembered it all too well. It was so vivid it was striking. As the dream faded, his memories filled in the gaps. His hands tightened into fists as he fought off the memories. Closing his eyes, he relied on years of practice to find himself again before eventually falling back to sleep.

* * *

His mind would not let him rest that night, however.

_Harry was standing along the wall of a dimly lit room. Voldemort was torturing a woman he vaguely recalled being a professor from Hogwarts. Something reached his ears about her being a muggle-lover._

"_Harry," Voldemort called, and an involuntary chill shot up his spine. He hands began to tremble. "What do you think of this?"_

_He hadn't been listening. In fact, he had been doing everything he could _not_ to listen. But he had to say something._

"_She's disgraceful," he said. His voice hadn't held enough disgust, enough malice. He knew._

"_Why don't you show her how you feel?" the Dark Lord suggested. _

_Harry knew better. It was no suggestion. It was an order._

_The Death Eaters watched, all of their eyes trained on him, as Harry stepped forward. He raised his wand, noticing that his arm wasn't shaking. Harry focused on this as he said the spell._

"_Crucio," the curse left his lips and his body felt hollow. Unforgivable._

_The curse was weak. He would be punished later. But he knew he had added to the witch's pain, and that cut deeper than anything they would do._

_The scene jumped ahead and Harry was back against the wall. There was a flash of green and the Death Eaters laughed and cheered and jeered at the now lifeless woman before them. In their excitement, no one noticed the momentary drop in Harry's mask, the pain in his eyes._

_Voldemort spoke and gestured for Nagini and Harry couldn't watch anymore. He slipped out of the room to be sick._

Nausea overwhelmed him as he came to, and he worried that he wouldn't be able to stop himself from being sick. His body was covered in sweat and his head felt awful. He coughed a few times before taking deep breaths to try to settle his stomach.

Hermione walked into the tent and Harry was surprised for a moment that he didn't feel reassured or more relaxed seeing her. Lately, he had.

"Harry, are you alright?" she asked, coming over to him.

"No," he answered in a distant voice, "I'm not."

"What is it?" he could hear the concern in her voice.

Harry didn't answer; he didn't know how. The memories haunting him had created a chasm between them, and Harry didn't know how to build bridges. Something in his mind told him that she would never understand- that she had no idea the things he had done and that she would hate him if she did.

What he had done, like the curses he had used, was unforgivable.

"Harry?" she touched his arm and he flinched.

Surprised, she pulled back. He glanced at her eyes and she looked hurt. That wasn't what he had been expecting and it unsettled him.

"You don't know me- not really. I- I've done terrible things- tortured people. You shouldn't trust me… I'm not like you; I'm not… good." Harry's voice was hoarse and broken.

"Harry, I do trust you." Her tone was strong, but he heard a slight tremble behind the words. "No matter what you were forced to do before, now you are making your own choices, and you are choosing to fight back. You saved my life."

She took one of Harry's hands, and this time when he flinched, she didn't shy away. Instead, she held on tighter.

"People can change, Harry, but I don't believe for a minute that you were ever evil." Seeing that he was about to say something, she continued. "People who are truly evil don't feel guilt like you did, they aren't bothered by the things they have done, and they don't doubt themselves and their actions and wonder if they are doing the right thing."

"You are not a bad person, Harry. I've seen how you act these last few months- how you treat people, how you treat yourself. Despite everything you've been through, you are caring and protective and understanding. You've put yourself in danger more than once trying to keep me safe…"

"I don't know why," Harry blurted out self-consciously before she could say anything else. He felt embarrassed, but some of his doubts were easing, too. The darkness threatening to consume him was being pushed back. "I'm not trying to be some hero."

"I know you aren't trying to be," Hermione said sincerely, "but maybe you just are. You have already saved my life several times." Her tone became just a bit lighter as she admitted this.

Harry's eyes met hers, and he held her gaze for some time.

"I think you saved mine, too."

They stayed sitting together for a while before Harry decided that it was Hermione's turn to sleep and he took watch. When he left Hermione and exited the tent, some of his doubts began to creep up again, but this time, he was able to hold them off. Focusing his mind on the good he had done since leaving the Malfoys and his happier memories with Hermione and the others he had met, he silently watched and waited for dawn.

* * *

The next few days were spent resting, recovering, reading (in Hermione's case), and discussing plans of what to do next. They also spent a while trying to destroy the Horcrux, which so far both of them had found impossible. They had taken turns using spell after spell, trying to slice it, burn it, slash it, smash it, and… nothing. Not even a scratch appeared on the little cup. Deciding to give up on destroying it for now, they kept it safely hidden in Hermione's bag, but even when it was out of sight, it was weighing on their minds almost as much as trying to figure out where to go next.

One evening, Harry finally built up the courage to suggest what he really wanted to do. It had been plaguing his mind for days, and he decided it was time to bring it up.

"I was thinking…" Harry said into the previously peaceful quiet, fidgeting restlessly, "that maybe we should go to Godric's Hollow."

Hermione looked up from her book to consider him for a moment. Harry wondered if she could tell how nervous he was about asking. He wasn't sure why, but he wanted so badly to go there. It was where he had been born, where his parents had lived and died. And his parents had been in Gryffindor House at Hogwarts, which Hermione had told him at some point was named by one of the four founders of the school, _Godric _Gryffindor. That couldn't be a coincidence.

He had rehearsed in his head over and over the reasons for going and how it might be beneficial, expecting to have to win Hermione over.

"He might be expecting you to go there," Hermione cautioned uneasily, "but I think you're right."

Harry perked up immediately, and she continued.

"It is likely that there is something useful there, like the real sword of Gryffindor; it _is _Godric's Hollow. Dumbledore might have left the real thing there for you. I still don't know about the fake in Bellatrix's vault though…

"And I read that an old friend of Dumbledore's is supposed to still live in Godric's Hollow: Bathilda Bagshot. Maybe he left it with her, or maybe she knows something." Hermione paused for a few seconds. "And… we really aren't sure where else to go." She certainly didn't look enthusiastic about the idea, but Harry was glad she had agreed nonetheless.

An excited grin spread across his face despite the dangers and uncertainties surrounding them.

When Hermione noticed this, a small smile crossed her features, too, as she shook her head at him, sighing.

* * *

The following days, Harry and Hermione practiced apparating and disapparating together under Harry's invisibility cloak. Hermione wanted to make sure they could do it flawlessly before trying it at Godric's Hollow. She had also suggested using Polyjuice Potion again, but Harry said that they didn't have another month to sit around and brew the complicated potion. While Hermione seemed annoyed with herself for not thinking to make and bring extra with them, she relented, agreeing that waiting another month was not a good option.

"I should've made more; I should have known we might need Polyjuice Potion again," she lamented.

"Don't worry about it, Hermione," Harry told her. "I doubt there would have been enough ingredients at Tonks' house to make much more, anyway. We were lucky that she had enough of everything to make it for the two of us."

Hermione sighed.

"Yes, I guess you're right," she said, though she still seemed disheartened.

"Well that's a first," Harry said jokingly, trying to lighten the mood.

Hermione glanced at him, and seeing his smile, her own lips quirked up a bit in response. She rolled her eyes.

"Harry, don't be silly. You have been right before."

He was about to retort when she pulled a pensive face and continued.

"There was that one time…" she trailed off, pretending to think about it.

Harry noticed the mischievous mirth in her eyes, and gave her a dirty look, not completely able to hide his own smile.

* * *

Harry found that he couldn't sleep that night. But maybe it was for the best; if he wasn't sleeping, he couldn't have nightmares.

Tomorrow, they would be leaving for Godric's Hollow.

Harry hoped that after all this time he was ready to face his past.


	20. The Birthplace of Godric Gryffindor

Thanks so much for the support and reviews. Unfortunately, this time I didn't get a chance to post a chapter sooner as a 'thank you'.

I deliberated over how to handle some parts of this chapter a lot, so I hope it turned out well. I wanted to have some differences but keep some things similar, and I think this came out as a decent mix of the two.

* * *

**Chapter 20: The Birthplace of Godric Gryffindor**

Harry closed his eyes, trying to focus.

_Happy. The happiest I have ever felt._

Images and memories replayed in his mind:

_He was sitting on the floor of a cave, laughing. Sirius's barking laugh came from where he was sitting a few feet away, and Hermione was next to him, her face lit up with amusement, too. Their laughter filled the small cavern. _

_ It was Christmas morning at Lupin's. Harry passed a present to Hermione's parents nervously. Lupin nodded, looking pleased. He glanced at Hermione, who smiled at him reassuringly. He returned her smile and noticed that she looked surprised, but appreciative- she probably hadn't expected him to give them all gifts._

_ Professor McGonagall smiled and put her hand on Harry's shoulder before giving Hermione a quick hug and leaving the room. Hermione laughed and told him how rare it was to get affection from the witch she looked up to._

_ Tonks transformed part of her face and changed her hair to help them visualize her story. She was telling them about one of her appearance-altering adventures from when she was younger. He looked over next to him and saw Hermione laughing lightly; he felt himself smile._

"Alright, try the spell, Harry," Hermione encouraged gently. Her voice was close to him, and it broke his concentration somewhat.

As he regained his focus, he noticed something in common with all of the happy memories that came to his mind: Hermione. In all of the memories he had thought of, she had been there with him, smiling and laughing. Instead of getting distracted by his surprise, he decided to just go with it, thinking of other memories of times he had been happy with Hermione.

_He was sitting on the floor close to Hermione. She was pointing to a picture in the book on her lap. He wasn't sure what the picture showed; he was watching the emotions play across her face as she told him about her years at Hogwarts._

_Hermione was lying on a sofa, looking somewhat disheveled. Harry gently arranged a cold cloth on her forehead, smoothing her hair and brushing the strands out of her face. Glancing down at her face, he couldn't read her expression._

_It was dark, he and Hermione were whispering to each other._

_Hermione slowly stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. His breath hitched, and he felt his heart pounding as he slid his arms around her and pulled her a little closer._

Harry let the feelings from these memories envelope him and spoke the spell clearly.

"Expecto Patronum."

Harry felt a surge of power and opened his eyes. Thick, silver mist streamed out of his wand to produce the form of a medium-sized animal. The bright shape stood before them. Harry could believe it; he'd done it. After all the time they had practiced, he had somehow gone from mostly pathetic wisps of silvery smoke to a full, corporeal Patronus.

Hermione looked at the animal with intent curiosity. Her own Patronus had run off and disappeared just a minute ago.

"It looks like a wolf," Hermione said quietly. She was right.

_A wolf? Awesome! I wonder what qualities made me most like a wolf…_

"Harry, you did it!" Hermione said excitedly as the wolf started to fade. She turned and hugged him tightly.

Harry froze and before he could fully process what was happening, she let go and continued talking. He didn't miss the light blush on her cheeks, though.

"That's so great!" she said happily. "And a wolf…? Hmm," Hermione frowned in thought as she continued, "I think wolves are known for being able to work well alone or in groups… they do best in small, close-knit packs, though. I read a book at the Hogwarts library about human-animal characteristics. Those with personalities like wolves were supposed to be… mysterious and complex, natural leaders, sometimes aggressive when angered, and sensitive to others' feelings but they don't readily reveal much about themselves."

She paused for a moment, trying to remember more as Harry listened with interest.

"They were also good under pressure, athletic, loyal and extremely protective and concerned with the well-being of others."

Harry simply stared at her in amazement.

"What?" Hermione asked as the light flush returned to her face. "I have a good memory," she explained, looking a bit embarrassed. "That does sound like you, though," she added thoughtfully.

Harry had to admit, it did. He grinned.

"I know," he told her, glad that she had pushed them to work on the spell again before they left for Godric's Hollow that evening.

Later that day, they were packed and ready to leave for Godric's Hollow. They stepped close together and Harry flung the cloak over them, allowing Hermione to check that they were completely covered. Then she took his hand, and they apparated together like they had practiced repeatedly.

They appeared on a street lit by light posts. Most of the buildings had lights outside their doors, too. The cottages looked old-fashioned, but sturdy, well-kept, and charming. The atmosphere was relaxed and cheerful, and there was a light snowfall slowly covering the ground. Harry wasn't sure how he could feel nostalgic for a place he didn't even remember.

The streets were quiet, but not eerily so. Every so often, a couple would leave a building and walk down the street: hand in hand, arm in arm, snuggled close together.

_Is everyone in Godric's Hollow a couple?_ Seeing so much affection made Harry uncomfortable; it surely wasn't something he was used to.

"What's with all of the happy couples?" Harry asked quietly, with a slight edge in his voice.

"I think it might be Valentine's Day," Hermione whispered suddenly, after thinking for a minute. "It should be around the middle of February."

Harry glanced back at one of the couples. The girl was holding a bouquet of roses. Maybe it was Valentine's Day. There weren't any decorations he could see to confirm it, but it would explain the abundance of romance.

Harry felt Hermione's hand grip his a little tighter and nearly jumped out of the cloak in surprise. He hadn't even realized that they were still holding hands from when they apparated. Heat rushed to his cold face as he thought of one of the couples they had passed, holding hands as they were. Looking over at Hermione, he noticed that her eyes were focused ahead and she looked troubled by something. He followed her gaze to the source of her discomfort: the ruins of a house.

Harry wasn't sure what he had been expecting, but it certainly wasn't this. His parents' house was there. Well, part of it. Apparently it had been left there as a memorial to the Potters and a reminder of the awful tragedy that had taken place there. Harry felt this throat tighten.

When they moved on, something else on the street caught Harry's attention. In the middle of the town square, there was a statue. He pulled Hermione closer and the sculpture became clearer: his parents sat holding him as a baby. It was a statue of the Potters, another memorial and memento to their lives before Voldemort had killed them. Hermione moved a little closer to him under the cloak and Harry felt her arm pressing into his side.

Next, they went to the graveyard. After they passed through the kissing gate, they removed the cloak and split up to search faster. Harry told her it should be okay to take the chance in the quiet, more secluded area. Really, he didn't want to be invisible when he first stood before his parents.

Not long after starting to look around, Hermione found a grave with an interesting mark on it; the symbol of the Deathly Hallows. She examined it curiously. The grave belonged to Ignotus Peverell.

"Harry," Hermione called quietly, "you should really see this."

When he didn't respond, she looked around and saw him standing stiffly, looking down at a grave marker; he didn't even seem to have heard her. She sucked in a cold breath, knowing he had found his parents' graves. Leaving the Peverell grave behind, she walked over to join him.

Harry stood, reading the words on the gravestone over and over, memorizing, though he knew he would never forget. Emotions warred within him so much that he couldn't even tell what he felt. Just being in the village where they had lived caused conflicting reactions within him. There was pain and longing for what he had lost and never had, guilt for the things he had done following the Death Eaters and Voldemort's instruction, and happiness that came with the inexplicable sense that he felt much closer to his parents after meeting some of their real friends. What would they think of who he had become? For a moment, he remembered the story of the Deathly Hallows, and longed for the Resurrection Stone to be real.

Slowly, Hermione's hand slid into his and she gently laced their fingers together. All at once, Harry felt less in control of his emotions, yet more at ease. Struggling to keep himself in check, he stood there with Hermione quietly. After a few minutes, it suddenly occurred to him that he hadn't brought anything to leave for his parents.

As if reading his thoughts, Hermione drew her wand with her free hand and silently conjured a beautiful flower arrangement. Harry looked at it in awe; it had some sort of greenery around the bottom near the vase, with red roses and white lilies adorning the bouquet.

Harry felt a powerful rush of affection and gratitude for the witch standing next to him. She was there, supporting him, sharing this with him. He had never imagined anyone with him when he thought of visiting his parents' graves. She couldn't know what it meant to him not to have to be alone for this.

Without realizing it, Harry's hand squeezed and held hers tighter.

Hermione took hold of the arrangement with her free hand carefully after storing her wand back in her coat pocket.

Harry pulled his eyes from the flowers to look at Hermione. Her nose and cheeks were tinted a light red, at least partly from the cold, and her winter hat had a light dusting of snow. There were snowflakes in the hair cascading out from under the hat, too. The brown eyes looking into his were misty with emotion, but shining lightly in the moonlight.

_She is beautiful. _

Hermione softly gestured to the arrangement she was holding, and Harry realized that he must have been staring. Her cheeks were definitely a darker shade of red than when he had first noticed. Blinking and looking away from her face, he reached to hold the flowers with her. She moved to let him take them, but he didn't. Instead, he kept the bouquet pressed into her hand, too. Glancing at her and hoping she understood, he deliberately moved the flowers slowly toward the ground.

Hermione guided the arrangement with him, and together, they placed it in front of his parents' graves. When they straightened back up, Harry turned to Hermione, their hands still linked.

Whatever he had wanted to say quickly left his mind when he saw an old woman standing near the gate of the graveyard, obviously watching them. A chill went up Harry's spine and he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He forced his eyes away from the shadowy figure to look at Hermione. Her face clearly showed that she had noticed his sudden change in expression, even though he had masked it shortly after spotting the woman.

"What is it?" she whispered urgently.

"There is an old woman standing by the gate watching us," Harry answered quietly, moving his mouth as little as possible.

Hermione nodded almost imperceptibly to show him that she understood.

Harry glanced at the woman again. She was looking right at him. Then she turned, moving slowly, and shuffled out of sight.

"We should follow her," Harry immediately suggested. "She might know something."

Harry was already starting to pull Hermione in that direction.

"Harry, it could be a trap," Hermione quietly warned.

"Or it could be someone Dumbledore told to find me and give me the sword if I ever turn up," Harry reasoned. "I don't trust it either, but we've got to try. We need something to go on."

Without really knowing why, he felt strongly about finding out the identity of the old woman and seeing what she wanted with them.

When they reached the kissing gate, she was gone. For a few moments, Harry glanced around, confused.

_Where could she have gone? She was just here._

Harry turned to look in the other direction up the street for the third time and jumped, barely holding in a shout of surprise. The woman was standing a few feet from them, looking at Harry intently. Harry's eyes widened and he felt Hermione grip his arm harder. Now that they were closer to her, he saw that she had pale skin and white hair. From the picture Hermione had shown him, he was pretty sure this was Bathilda Bagshot, the old witch who had supposedly known Dumbledore well.

She beckoned for them to come with her.

Feeling like they didn't have much choice, they followed.

The old witch led them down the street to a house they assumed was hers. Harry let go of Hermione's hand to try to help the woman, and with shaking hands, she opened the front door, allowing them inside. He shared a glance with Hermione as they walked in. She was nervous, too.

The inside was dusty and smelled odd, but Harry couldn't place the scent. Looking around, he saw photos of witches and wizards, one of whom looked like pictures he had seen of Dumbledore. A copy of Rita Skeeter's book about the late Headmaster sat on one of the end tables.

"You're Bathilda, aren't you?" Harry asked, finding it difficult to break the silence.

The woman merely nodded, looking into Harry's eyes in a way that made him feel very uneasy. He wanted to just come out and ask about if Dumbledore had mentioned him at all, or left anything for him, but he couldn't seem to find the words.

Bathilda gestured for Harry to follow her down a hallway in the house, and he stepped forward. When the woman shook her head, Harry noticed that Hermione had taken a step with him. It was clear that Bathilda only wanted Harry to follow her, but Hermione looked reluctant to let him go without her.

He nodded to her, in a way that he hoped said that it would be okay. Something felt wrong, but they didn't come all this way to leave empty-handed. They needed some sort of clue.

Hermione hesitated, clearly wanting to say something, but she held herself back and remained silent as they walked slowly away.

The old woman led Harry to a room upstairs.

In a quiet, shaky voice that sounded like it hadn't been used in some time, she asked, "Harry Potter?"

"Yes," Harry answered, not seeing the point in trying to hide his identity now, "I am Harry Potter."

The woman turned around as if to show him something and then suddenly her body began to twist and contort. Frozen to the spot and not understanding what was happening, Harry watched in horror as an enormous snake emerged from the body of the woman as she limply crumbled to the ground. Suddenly nauseous from the repulsive scene, Harry swallowed the sudden urge to be sick. Fear quickly replaced the disgust Harry felt.

A second later, the snake dove at Harry with surprising force. He flung himself out of the way, crashing into a piece of furniture in the room. Scrambling, he tried to draw his borrowed wand. Before he got his hand securely on it, the large snake knocked into him, sending the wand rolling across the floor and out of reach. Panicking, Harry tried to wrestle the powerful snake away from him. He turned and slammed the snake into a nearby dresser as hard as he could from his awkward position on the ground. The snake swayed, stunned, before lunging back at Harry, wide mouth open and fangs bared.

Somehow, Harry managed to dodge the snake's fangs, but seconds later, in the back of his mind, he registered the tight pressure against his abdomen and around one of his arms; the snake was constricting him. He tried to call out to Hermione, but he could barely breathe in the snake's hold, and little more came out than a painful exhale.

Harry tried to fight, but he could no longer move with his legs now being wrapped up as well. The snake coiled the head of its long body back, preparing to strike again.

"Confringo!"

A small, bright light entered the room, followed shortly by a few blasts of noise. Harry felt the snake loosen its grip on him and quickly tried to disentangle himself as much as he could. His scar throbbed blindingly, hindering his escape. Hermione rushed into the room toward Harry, who was still trapped and struggling.

Before Harry could get completely free, the snake lashed out and knocked Hermione back.

"Hermione!" Harry called out. His body had not recovered from the snake's hold on him, causing his voice to come out as a breathless gasp.

He crawled toward them, grabbing at the creature desperately, trying to get it away from Hermione. Snatching her wand from the ground where it had fallen, he pointed it at the beast.

Time stopped and in an instant Harry felt the pressure return to his chest, this time clenching his heart and lungs. The snake's mouth was clamped onto Hermione near her right shoulder. Her eyes looked unfocused. Harry had no idea if the snake was poisonous or not.

Fury surged through Harry and the serpent was blasted off of Hermione. For several seconds, nothing in the room moved. Icy coldness spread through Harry's veins as he stared at Hermione's unconscious form.

Distantly, Harry heard voices and the rushing of wind. Outside the cottage, darkness came ever closer.

Before he had time to act, the pain in his scar blurred his vision and the snake abandoned Hermione to attack him again.

There was a crash and Harry heard the shattering of glass. He opened his eyes again. Instantly, whatever tiny ray of hope he had left drained from him; before him stood one of the darkest wizards of all time: Voldemort. He smiled down at Harry wickedly.

Harry no longer felt the snake's crushing hold on him. His body had gone numb with pain and fear. He couldn't move his wand arm, and he was wrapped up in a snake that was much stronger than him; Hermione was unconscious with a possibly deadly snake bite.

"Harry Potter… we meet again."

Harry had no response. His body was constricted. His scar was burning. He couldn't think straight.

"I see you have kept the girl around," Voldemort commented, his expression slipping to one of curious disgust for a moment. "Has she proved useful to you?"

Something about the way he said it caused a surge of anger through Harry. His muscles flexed despite the snake around him and he found his voice.

"She's not just some _thing_ to be used," Harry growled dangerously.

Voldemort's cold eyes stared into Harry's as if trying to read him. It was beyond unnerving. A cold chill ran through his already strained body.

There was a loud crash downstairs, and Voldemort's face contorted into an angry, confused look. Clearly he had not been expecting anyone else to show up. Before he could even raise his wand, there was another noise, closer this time.

Surprise registered on both of their faces as a figure burst into the room that no one had expected.

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**Author's Note: **Yeah, I usually don't write anything at the end of the chapter, but this time I figured I would. I hope no one is upset about the change in Harry's Patronus. I debated keeping it as a stag, but personally I really wanted it to be different for this story, and I think it works better this way. I gave a lot of thought to what animal it would be if I changed it, and ultimately, I came up with a wolf.

Here's why: I knew I wanted an animal that would still seem strong and interesting (not like a slug or something, which J.K. Rowling has mentioned would be very unfortunate for someone to end up being haha), and I did some basic research. I found two different sites about animal-human personality comparisons, and the description of the wolf seemed to fit Harry pretty well for both. I would post the links to the websites, in case anyone is interested, but I'm not sure if you're allowed (on Fanfiction stories). If you are curious, let me know and I can send you the links.

Thanks again for everyone who is reading and supporting this story- you guys are awesome!


	21. Loss

Thanks so much for all of the continued support! You guys are awesome! I hope you like the chapter.

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**Chapter 21: Loss**

Framed in the doorway was Harry's godfather, Sirius Black. His wand was pointed at Voldemort, having just sent a spell at the snake binding Harry. He already felt its hold easing up, though he doubted it would be dazed for long.

"Harry, get Hermione and get out of here, now!" Sirius instructed.

Moving as fast as he could with his head still pounding and his whole body aching, Harry shoved the snake off of him and crawled toward Hermione. He briefly heard Voldemort speak before sounds of a duel followed, but it was as if Harry's world had narrowed down to the witch lying in front of him. Concern for his godfather weighed on his every movement, but he knew he had to get Hermione out of there fast if there was any chance of saving her.

"Hermione," Harry called to her desperately, reaching for her with shaking hands.

_Please don't be dead. She can't be dead. Please. I have to do something. I have to get her out of here._

Harry pushed his remaining energy into closing the distance to Hermione. As he reached for her wand on the ground, he saw movement in his peripheral vision; the snake was lunging at him. In a second, Sirius dove in front of him, catching the relentless serpent and tumbling to the ground with it.

Voldemort laughed at his actions, watching with amusement as Sirius grunted and struggled. His godfather noticed that Harry had reached Hermione.

"Go to," Sirius instructed as quickly as he could, in a strained voice, "the place where we-"

Voldemort's eyes shifted to Harry and Hermione, and he knew his time was up.

"He isn't-" Voldemort began to yell, but Harry didn't wait around to listen. Sirius managed to shoot a spell at Voldemort, which he deflected. It had served its purpose though, causing the split-second distraction Harry needed.

Clutching Hermione tightly, he disapparated to the first place that he thought might fit Sirius's description.

The last thing he saw was a jet of green shooting out of Voldemort's wand, and the light leaving his godfather's eyes.

The last thing he heard was Voldemort's scream of rage as they escaped.

He held tight to Hermione as pain flooded his scar.

Then everything was black.

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Slowly, Harry became faintly aware of noise. Trying to focus his mind, which currently felt very foggy, on the source of the sound, he realized that it sounded like a voice.

_What's going on? What happened…? Where am I now?_

With effort, Harry opened his eyes and found himself looking at an unfamiliar room. There was a fireplace with a small fire burning not far from where he was laying and several long windows with old, black curtains. Examining the room more closely, Harry noticed that the wallpaper seemed to be old, faded and in some places peeling.

_How the hell did I get here… wherever "here" is?_

Before Harry had much chance to consider this, he saw movement near the doorway and tensed as a reflex.

"Harry Potter, sir!" Dobby trotted haphazardly over to Harry, carrying a small basin of liquid- probably water- and a stack of towels, the top of which was currently so covered in red that it made Harry feel sick. "Dobby was so worried! He didn't know what else to do! Is Harry Potter feeling better?"

"Dobby," Harry said in a voice that didn't quite sound like his own, completely ignoring what the elf said, "whose blood is that?" In the back of his mind he wondered what Dobby was doing wherever he was, but it was drowned out by the elf's reaction to his question.

Dobby looked uncomfortable. He put down the things he had been carrying, glancing around awkwardly as if one of the pieces of furniture would suddenly spring to life and save him from having to answer Harry's question.

"D-Dobby has been-" Harry cut him off forcefully.

"Hermione," he said suddenly, his eyes widening as his mind raced.

Enough came back to know for certain that she had been with him… that she should still be with him.

"Where's Hermione?" Harry quickly asked. Seeing the elf's nervous hesitation, Harry sat up, insistent.

"Dobby, where is she?" Harry demanded in a low, dangerous voice.

His mind was flashing back to random scenes of what had happened: the snake, Sirius trying to distract Voldemort, Hermione being bitten badly. The more he remembered the more panicked he felt.

"Is that… her blood?" Harry asked. Somehow he felt hollow and terrified at the same time. How long had he been out? She had to be alright, right?

"Harry's Miss is in the other room on his floor, sir. She is…" Dobby searched for a word to describe the situation delicately, "…not well, but Dobby tried his best and has been able to stabilize her condition until you is waking up, sir." Dobby tried to look hopeful. "Now, Harry Potter might be able to save her!"

Harry got to his feet, nearly falling back down as his muscles protested. He vaguely remembered being crushed and constricted by Voldemort's snake, fighting it off repeatedly. As he staggered down the hall to the bedroom, Dobby flitted around Harry's legs, speaking in a high voice and trying to make sure Harry didn't fall.

Harry walked into the room, seeing the unconscious form of Hermione on the bed. When he got to her bedside, he felt as though all of the feeling in his body was being drained out through his feet. Her upper body was wrapped in a towel, with several other towels placed on top of that one. The towels left the top of her chest and shoulders exposed, and Harry could see where the elf had been trying to stop the bleeding. It looked like he had succeeded, but Harry's eyes were quickly drawn to her right shoulder, which was a mess, though it didn't seem to be bleeding anymore.

Harry could see that there were two distinct slashes of darker red. Usually, blood didn't bother Harry that much, but seeing Hermione's blood and her face, which was a bit too pale, affected Harry more than he was ready for. Rooted to the spot, Harry stared down at her like he couldn't comprehend what he was seeing, and time seemed to slow. In his mind, he couldn't make sense of anything other than that fact that she really might die; he had gotten them out alive, but she might die anyway.

Breathing immediately became difficult.

They had been through so much together, in only a short time. Scenes from the past few months replayed in his head: their escape from Malfoy Manor, saving her parents, Christmas, her introducing him to others who seemed like good people, learning and practicing a difficult spell, breaking into Gringott's and flying out on a dragon, going to Godric's Hollow together. They had stayed up late talking, laughed and smiled, held hands, hugged... She had saved his life several times, in more ways than one, and he had actually saved her, too…

"-used his magic to, um, freeze it, sir, to stop the spread of poison or infection, and to stop the bleeding," Harry began to register the elf's ranting, hearing that there was poison involved, "but she is still needing more treatment, sir. What can we do, oh, what can we do?"

_What can I do?_ His hands were shaking.

It was up to him to save her. He couldn't let her down now. Harry wracked his tired brain, trying to ignore the light throbbing still present in his head.

"How much time does she have?" Harry asked.

"Dobby is not sure, sir… if she is not treated further, an hour at best. Dobby could only slow the spread of the venom. The longer we is waiting…" Harry cut him off in what he hoped was an urgent, but patient, voice; the elf had helped to save her life so far, after all.

"Do you have her bag, and her wand?"

"The magic bag is here, sir," Dobby grabbed it and hastily offered it to Harry, "and her wand is in the room you woke in, sir. Dobby left it there in case you was needing it."

"Alright, I'll get the wand. Set the bag down there. I'll be right back."

With that, Harry left the room, heading back toward the one where he had woken up. The scene of Sirius dying pushed its way into his mind, and Harry felt the pain of loss, for another person he hadn't had much time to get to know. He had really liked his godfather, and he was the only family he had left, as far as he was concerned. Sirius had died shielding him, protecting him. His eyes fell on Hermione's wand and Harry forced whatever sadness and guilt he felt out of his mind; he had to focus on Hermione right now.

When Harry returned to the bedroom, he was still trying to think of something to help her. Frustrated that he didn't know what to do, Harry went over to try to look through her magic bag. It was filled with tons of books, and Harry scanned the titles hurriedly, hoping one might be useful. Every second he spent without an idea, poison spread slowly through her. Dobby might've slowed it somehow, but Harry knew that wouldn't stop it completely. Searching desperately, Harry felt as though a dementor was behind him, draining his hope and happiness.

Finally, when he passed a book about potions, it hit him: dittany.

Harry leapt up, snatched Hermione's wand from the bedside table and thrust it over the open bag. Dobby, who had been watching over Hermione, shrieked at Harry's sudden burst of movement.

_She's got everything else in there; please let her have brought some…_

"Accio Dittany!"

Almost instantly, a little vial flew up out of the bag, which Harry caught, thankful that he had good reflexes.

_She must have found Essence of Dittany at Andromeda's. Brilliant!_

Harry walked over to her and opened the small bottle.

"Dobby, do you need to, er, unfreeze her, before I use this?"

"Yes, sir," Dobby nodded, causing his ears to flop around somewhat, "if the potion is to spread and heal, I must remove my magic."

"Okay," Harry readied the bottle, "remove it."

The change was instant: blood began flowing slowly but steadily from Hermione's wounds again, her face contorted with pain though she was still unconscious, and her body started to writhe around a bit in agony, as if she was in a horrible nightmare and couldn't wake up. It wrenched Harry's heart to see her like that.

Trying to hold her still with one hand, Harry dripped the Essence of Dittany onto the gashes in her skin. Quickly, it seeped into the deepest parts of the wounds and began to regrow new skin. Hermione didn't stop struggling until Harry was almost done. There wasn't much dittany left in the bottle now, but if it saved Hermione's life it was well worth it. Personally, Harry hoped they wouldn't need it again.

His green eyes traveled slowly over the witch before him and he absentmindedly ran a hand through his unruly black hair. Her face was more relaxed than it had been, but wasn't quite at ease. Angry red marks were visible on her right shoulder, extending down a bit past her collarbone. The partially healed gashes stood out in stark contrast to her white skin where nearly all traces of a summer tan had faded. But the wounds seemed to be healing, and the bleeding had stopped. Harry was also relieved to notice that at least a little of the color had returned to her face.

More hopeful that Hermione might actually survive, Harry felt some of the tension leave him. He knew she wasn't completely out of danger yet, though. Harry looked over to Dobby, who had been watching intently.

"Is there anything I can get Harry Potter and his miss?" Dobby asked. "I could get something to eat or drink?"

The exhausted young wizard considered this for a moment.

"Sure, whatever you like," Harry responded, "but, make something for yourself, and Hermione, too, just in case."

"Dobby will be happy to!" and with that, the elf disappeared down the hall, muttering about Harry's kindness and goodness and greatness.

Only after Dobby was out the door did Harry realize that he still had no idea where exactly he was, but he let it go; figuring that he would find out eventually and that it must be safe enough if Dobby didn't seem concerned. He turned back to Hermione.

Without the distraction of the immediate need to heal her, Harry was much more aware of how she looked, aside from the injuries. The towel wrapped around her chest and upper abdomen was thankfully still in place, but the additional towels Dobby had placed overtop- for further ensuring her modesty or in case he needed another to stop additional bleeding, Harry wasn't sure- must've slid off as she squirmed around when he was applying the dittany.

Harry tried not to look, but the towel, while still covering her, left less to his imagination than anything he had seen her in before. Swallowing thickly, he forced his eyes back up to her face. The somewhat sickly color and unrest there sobered him up quickly enough; she was still in pain.

Gently, he reached out and rested his hand against her cheek. It was unexpectedly cold under his warm touch. He closed his eyes. As fear began to ensnare him again, he felt something feather light touch his fingertip. Refocusing, he saw her eyes slowly opening again, her eyelashes just brushing his finger. His breath caught in surprise and his chest tightened as he froze; he hadn't expected her to wake up so soon.

"…Harry," she said weakly.

His hand slipped from her cheek to her neck, and he leaned in slightly.

"Hermione, I'm here. You're going to be alright," Harry's words rushed out in a quiet, nervous determination. "We're safe now. You had dittany- in your bag- and I used it, and…" he trailed off when he noticed her eyes closing.

"Hermione?" Harry asked, his voice rising in volume and pitch and worry. "Hermione, stay with me." Her eyes opened again, looking directly into his. Then they began to close. "Hermione, please… don't leave me." The pleading tone in Harry's voice sounded foreign to him.

He hung his head, trying in vain to convince himself that she was going to be alright.


	22. You Are Not Alone

Here's the next chapter! Thank you guys so much for the awesome reviews!

* * *

**Chapter 22: You Are Not Alone**

Giving a defeated sigh, Harry knelt down next to Hermione's bed and rested his forehead against it, closing his eyes. There was nothing else he could for her right now. He wasn't sure how long he had been there when Dobby returned with an enormous tray of hot food. The smell pulled Harry into action as he realized that he hadn't eaten in a long time. Dobby asked if Harry wanted to go in the other room to eat, but Harry quickly insisted on staying in the room with Hermione. So, they set the tray between them and sat on the floor, with Harry not really paying attention to what he was piling on his plate.

Despite feeling quite hungry before, once he had taken a few bites, Harry felt his appetite fading. It had nothing to do with the food, which tasted vaguely good. The worry and guilt eating at him made it difficult to force the food down.

"Dobby, where are we?" Harry asked, finally voicing what he had been wondering. "How did we get here? And how did you find us?"

"Ah, well Mister Sirius contacted Dobby and told him that there was trouble where he was staying, sir. He was saying that Dobby should go to the cave in case someone needed to go there for help. He said that from there he would take them to his house. We was having this plan for some time. Mister Sirius had Mister Aberforth summon Dobby so that Dobby could speak with him before he left to wait at Godric's Hollow."

The elf barely paused before continuing his story, "So Dobby left right away, and he stayed at the cave. It was not much time before you showed up. But Mister Sirius did not return, so Dobby took you to the house. Dobby has been here once before, sir, so he knew where to go. And-"

"Wait," Harry cut in, trying to slow Dobby down. His mind was having trouble keeping up. "So… you're saying that we did apparate to the cave where I met Sirius. But then you were there waiting for us, and took us… here?"

"Yes, that is what happened."

"How did Sirius even find us? How did he know where we were? Did you say he was staying in Godric's Hollow?"

"Yes, Sir, Mister Sirius did not know where you had gone after you were separated. He told Dobby that he was going to stay near the Hollow because he thought Harry Potter might go there."

Harry felt his gut tighten uncomfortably. Sirius had been in hiding near Godric's Hollow all that time waiting to see if they would show up there… and now… Harry let out a shaky breath.

"And… where is 'here'?" Harry asked, glancing around again as he tried not to let his mind wander.

"This is the house of Mister Sirius. His family used to live here. It belongs to him now, but he," Dobby lowered his voice slightly as if telling a secret, "let the Order use it as Headquarters."

Processing so much information all at once was causing Harry's brain more misery. Sighing, he massaged his head, closing his eyes to shut out the light.

"Harry Potter needs more sleep. When Dobby found him, he was not looking very well."

"Yeah, maybe…" Harry said, "But I'm not leaving Hermione. She still needs more healing, and we have to make sure she… wakes up soon." So much had happened in the last twenty-four hours, Harry felt unbelievably drained.

"I'll just sleep in here," Harry told the house elf, stifling a yawn. "I bet I could sleep just about anywhere right now."

After some convincing, Dobby settled for bringing a cot into the room and letting Harry sleep there. Harry silently watched Hermione until the elf returned to the room. A minute after he settled onto the cot, Harry was asleep.

* * *

_Harry was back at Malfoy Manor facing Voldemort, who was standing in the middle of the room._

_ "You are finished, Harry Potter," the Dark Lord hissed. "I have taken the only thing in this world that truly matters to you."_

_ Harry felt confused for a moment before Voldemort stepped aside and revealed a figure behind him._

_ Lying on the floor, clearly unconscious, was Hermione._

_ All thought left Harry's mind as he rushed to her side. She didn't look good. He checked for a pulse._

_ "Please don't be dead," he pleaded. "Hermione…" He felt like he was suffocating._

_ "She is gone," Voldemort said in a cold voice. "And you are alone."_

Harry woke up with a jolt. The dream had been so vivid, so real.

He sat up and looked to his side, seeing Hermione's bed next to him in the moonlight. Pushing himself up off of the cot, and grabbing his glasses, he stood and moved to look at her. Her face seemed more peaceful, but she still didn't look good. Harry let out a breath uncomfortably, remembering the dream.

After a few minutes, he went back to the cot and found himself unable to sleep, instead staring at the ceiling. The dream kept coming back to him, and the reality of it scared him. If something happened to Hermione, he would be completely alone. He had come to realize that he had been alone before he met her, but now that he knew what it was like to have someone with him- helping him, supporting him, even caring about him, and sharing everything with him, the thought of losing her terrified him.

His thoughts wandered to when they had visited Godric's Hollow- seeing the town with her, his parents' old house, the statue of him and his parents… then going to the graveyard and the flowers she conjured, and whatever moment between them that had been ruined by the horrible turn of events.

A while later, Harry drifted back to sleep.

* * *

Harry faintly heard noise and rolled over, trying to ignore it and get back to sleep. He had almost succeeded when he heard the noise again, a little louder this time. Shifting back to the other side, he tried to determine what had woken him up.

"Harry?"

Harry immediately recognized the voice as Hermione's, even though it sounded weak and a bit hoarse. Hastily shaking off sleep, Harry sat up and blinked until his eyes became adjusted.

"Hermione?" Harry quickly got up and stood next to her bed, leaning over so he could see her better in the dim light. Her eyes were still closed.

"Harry," she repeated restlessly, and Harry noticed that her face was slightly scrunched up in discomfort.

Harry laid a hand on her arm.

"Hermione, I'm here," he said in a reassuring voice.

Her eyes opened into his and he noticed that they were shining with unshed tears. Unprepared for the emotion in her eyes, Harry hesitated for a moment before moving his hand from her shoulder to brush her hair out of her face gently.

"Hermione, it's okay. I'm right here. Are you alright?" Harry asked. Despite his efforts, his voice still sounded noticeably worried and shaky.

She simply looked at him for a while, her eyes taking in his face. Slowly she reached up and laid her hand lightly against his cheek. Harry felt his stomach flip and heart speed up a little as warmth spread from his chest. Then, she smiled and let out a breath that sounded like a mix between a sigh and a laugh. Harry felt himself smile automatically in response as relief began to wash over him.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked again, this time sounding a lot less scared.

"I think so," she answered truthfully. "I feel like I don't have much energy and a lot of things hurt and feel stiff, but I think I'm going to be okay."

Harry's smile widened and he sighed thankfully.

"I thought…" she trailed off, her tone much different. Now she wouldn't meet his eyes.

She didn't have to finish the sentence, he knew what she had thought from her tone; he had worried about it, too- been petrified by it. She had thought she might not survive.

"I know," Harry told her. He took a breath to steady himself. "I was so scared I was going to lose you."

That brought her eyes back to him, and his face flushed. She said nothing as her eyes searched his until Harry looked away, feeling embarrassed and unsure.

"I couldn't do this without you," he admitted, looking at her hand, which had left his face and was now covering one of his on the bed. "I just… you-" Harry awkwardly tripped over his words, not really sure what he wanted to say, but knowing he wanted to say _something._ For a few seconds, Harry felt himself fighting back tears and it unsettled him- why was he feeling so emotional about this?

"It's okay," Hermione said quietly. "You don't have to do this alone. I'm still here to help."

Suddenly feeling like Hermione had gotten the wrong impression, Harry looked up to her face and blurted out his thoughts in a quiet, rushed voice.

"No, it's not that. It wasn't just about the mission or trying to save everyone by myself. That's not why I was worried. It was about…"

_What was it about? What _is_ it about?_

"It was about you."

The look in her eyes told him that she had understood the gravity of his words. Harry felt completely uncertain, yet perfectly sure at the same time; terrified, but strangely confident.

She squeezed his hand and smiled softly up at him.

"Thank you," she said, in a voice just above a whisper.

After he returned her smile warmly, still feeling nervous, he briefly summed up where they were and how they had gotten there. Hermione seemed shocked and upset upon hearing about Sirius. They paused, caught in a thick silence before Harry suggested they get some more sleep.

* * *

The pair spent the next few days healing and resting, sometimes discussing what they had learned or exploring the house. Hermione was definitely getting better, but her right arm couldn't do much, which frustrated her greatly. To their surprise, they found another house elf the day after Dobby left. He was an older elf- very wrinkly and with a hoarse voice. The elf's name was Kreacher, and he was a foul-mouthed, miserable little thing, in Harry's opinion.

Harry had rolled his eyes exasperatedly as Hermione tried to reason with the elf politely after he had called her a Mudblood for the third time. The first time, Harry had threatened Kreacher, but Hermione had pushed him back and calmed him down. How Hermione could be so set on trying to kill the filthy, old elf with kindness, Harry couldn't understand, but he watched with moderate patience as she attempted to talk to him.

From the elf, they had learned that the place was called the House of Black, which made sense because Sirius's last name was Black. On the floor where they were staying, there was a bedroom, a bathroom, and the living room with a fireplace where Harry had woken up. There were large windows and a couch in the drawing room, and a tapestry with an elaborate family tree. When they inspected it, they noticed that some people, including Sirius, had been burnt out of the portrait.

On the ground floor, there was a grotesque set of house elf heads hanging on the wall- Hermione had been particularly upset about this. And there was a passageway to the kitchen, which was below the ground floor. It was a long, fairly narrow room with a long table to match and a giant fireplace at one end. The expansive pantry was almost completely empty, but they quickly decided not to trust anything in there when the first jar they opened emitted an awful smell. They hadn't gone to look through the upper floors yet, but they figured there would be more bedrooms there.

One evening, Harry and Hermione were sitting on the sofa near the fireplace. Hermione was poring over a thick book looking for… something, and Harry was sitting next to her absentmindedly looking at the snitch Dumbledore had given him. A small, frustrated sigh left Hermione's lips, which Harry wouldn't have noticed had he not been sitting so close to her already. Pocketing the snitch, he looked over to see what was troubling her.

Her hair was a bit more frazzled than usual, and she was biting her lip so furiously that Harry was surprised it wasn't bleeding. The look of concentration on her face showed that she hadn't even noticed Harry's attention.

"Hey," Harry said softly, not wanting to startle her, "Hermione? Err… Hermione?"

When she didn't respond, he tried again. And again.

Running a hand through his hair and looking at Hermione in amazement, he considered what to do; if he just shook her, she might not appreciate it and he didn't want to shout at her.

"Hermione, Crookshanks says 'Hello'."

No response. He figured she might have responded to the name of her cat, which he knew she missed.

"Hermione, Dobby says he wants your socks, right now. He loves the fuzzy light blue ones. He wants to put them on his big, wobbly ears."

Not even a glance. But she was still biting her lip.

Harry smirked, feeling a little mischievous. He felt a rush of nerves even though he was confident she wouldn't hear and it was just meant as a joke.

"Hermione, you look really attractive biting your lip like that."

She suddenly blinked and her eyes widened before they found him, looking confused and completely taken aback. Harry felt himself freeze.

"What did you just say…?" Hermione asked hesitantly.

_Of course she would hear _that. _What do I say now? _Harry panicked.

"I- err… Dobby, and socks," Harry stammered, hoping she would buy it and that she truly hadn't heard the last part.

She studied him for a few moments and he held his breath under her questioning gaze.

"That… doesn't sound anything like what I thought I heard," Hermione said skeptically.

"W-well, I tried calling your name, and you weren't answering, so I just- err, sort of said random things to try to get your attention. One of the things I said was that, uh, Dobby wanted your socks and was going to put them… on his ears."

Harry tried to silently will her not to ask him anything else and to just accept it as a misunderstanding.

_Why did I even _say _that? Sure, I didn't think she'd hear, and I thought it would be a good laugh to say something like that while she had no idea, but still..._

She gave him a look that said she clearly didn't believe that's all there was to it, but she let it go.

"Alright… well, what did you want, then?"

"Oh… you sighed and you looked frustrated and I was just… going to see what was wrong," Harry explained.

Hermione sighed again, this time ignoring his nervousness.

"I've been trying to figure out what the other Horcruxes might be, or where the Sword of Gryffindor could be hidden, and why there might've been a fake in Bellatrix's vault, but… I'm just getting nowhere." Harry understood how she felt, and it seemed to bother her even more not to be able to find the answers. Taking a breath, she continued.

"I feel like the sword _has _to have something to do with destroying the Horcruxes, since nothing else we've tried has worked," at this, Harry noticed her pause a second to scowl at nothing in particular. "But," she continued, "knowing that it is supposed to be helpful to us doesn't do any good if we can't find the real one. And I'm sick of my arm being useless-"

"Hermione," Harry cut her off before she could continue, gently taking hold of her uninjured arm, "relax."

She stopped talking and looked at him, waiting for him to continue. Harry couldn't tell whether she was annoyed by his interruption or not.

"Look, I know how you feel, believe me, but… try not to stress yourself out about it so much. We're lucky to still be alive right now."

Harry wanted to say more; he wanted to tell her that it would all be okay and that she didn't have to worry, but he couldn't promise that and he knew she wouldn't believe it- he didn't either. So he settled for what he could promise, what he did believe.

"I'll do anything to make sure nothing like that ever happens to you again," Harry told her seriously, his eyes locked on hers after glancing to her shoulder. "I never should have let that happen. Your arm will heal. And the other stuff…" Harry trailed off, unsure of how to word what he wanted to say. "You're brilliant. If anyone can figure it out, it's you."

A light blush rose across her cheeks at his compliment, and she broke his gaze, her eyes flickering around the room, not meeting his. "But that's just it- I _should _be able to find something useful with all these books, but every time I look I keep coming up empty-handed!"

"Hey," Harry said in a comforting tone, "I know it's frustrating, but this isn't all on your shoulders, you know. I'm the one who has to fight him: it's my job to find and destroy the Horcruxes and get the sword. You don't have to be here at all." He paused for a moment and her eyes slowly found his again. "But you are… and I definitely wouldn't have gotten this far without you."

Harry was a little surprised that the words came to him fairly easily; he didn't really have any experience comforting someone. Maybe he just hated seeing Hermione so anxious and upset.

Hermione gave him a small smile; she looked embarrassed but grateful. Harry returned it with a smile of his own and offered to help her talk out her theories. They spent the next hour or so this way, discussing what the Horcruxes might be, or where they could be hidden and what sorts of magic might be guarding them.

* * *

Later that night, Harry found his sleep once again haunted.

_He was standing in a dark hall, looking into a cell through bars. An old man was sitting in the cell, looking up at him._

_ Waving his thin, white wand at the bars, they burst open. Entering the cell, he spoke to the man in a threatening voice._

_ "Where is the wand?" he asked._

_ The man shook his head._

_ "I do not fear you, Voldemort. I do not fear death."_

_ Anger seethed within him and he bellowed in rage._

"Harry!" Hermione called, shaking his shoulders in an attempt to rouse him. Gasping, Harry shot up in bed, nearly slamming into Hermione as he sat bolt upright, his scar throbbing painfully.

"Harry, what happened?" Hermione asked, sounding worried. "Are you alright?" She was seated on the edge of his bed, one leg tucked in front of her so she could face him.

"You-Know-Who," Harry told her, "he- he killed someone." Still trying to catch his breath and trembling slightly, he continued, "They were in a prison- he was asking about a wand. I think he's looking for the Elder wand. He doesn't know where it is, though."

Hermione looked very concerned, and she cautiously asked, "And you're absolutely sure it wasn't a dream?"

"I'm positive, Hermione," Harry told her seriously. "I saw it… it was real."

She nodded, believing him.

"It's going to be alright, Harry," she said, trying to comfort him. Gently she rubbed his arm, hoping to soothe some of his tension. "We'll figure it out."

The images from the vision kept coming back to him every time he closed his eyes. Looking at Hermione, he tried to convince himself to trust her words.

"I'm not sure how you can see things like that, but it sounds like some form of Legilimency. Usually it is used when the people are together in the same room…" Hermione trailed off, thinking. "It can be really dangerous, but it doesn't seem like You-Know-Who knows about you seeing into his mind."

"I think you should really do your best to block it out when it happens, Harry," Hermione requested sincerely.

"I would if I could," Harry told her, making a face.

"I don't know very much about Occlumency, unfortunately," she admitted, adding, "That's the opposite of Legilimency," when she saw Harry's confused expression.

"I keep seeing it every time I close my eyes," Harry told her.

"Then stop closing them," Hermione replied smartly. "Look at me," she instructed softly. He complied without hesitation or protest. The hand that had been rubbing his arm slowly slid down to hold one of his hands. Suddenly, her eyes brightened.

"I have an idea. Remember how you have to think of happy memories before you cast a Patronus?" she asked.

Harry nodded.

"Try that," she suggested.

Keeping his eyes locked on hers, he brought the happiest memories he had to the front of his mind. Somehow, he found it much easier to summon them while looking at her.

Harry smiled, indicating that the storm in his mind was calming down. He just hoped that little trick would work as easily in the future. Something told him he was going to need it again.


	23. Conversations of the Past

Okay, here's chapter 23. Hope you like it! Thanks so much to everyone who is reading and/or reviewing!

* * *

**Chapter 23: Conversations of the Past**

A few days later, they were exploring the house when they found bedrooms on the top floor with name plates on the door. One read 'Regulus', and the other said 'Sirius'. Harry froze, rooted to the spot. Why was he so shocked? This was the house where Sirius grew up; he should have expected some mementos from his godfather's life. He felt Hermione glance at him from where she stood at his side. The memories flooded back to him and caught him in a torrent of destructive emotions.

_Sirius was welcoming them to his cave with a smile and open friendliness upon realizing who they were. They were sitting around in the cave, laughing and listening to Sirius as he told them of his adventures with Harry's parents and their other friends._

_ Wrestling with a snake, pain, struggling._

_ His godfather's voice._

_ A flash of green._

_ The light leaving his eyes as Harry felt darkness closing in on him._

He felt something on his upper arms, and when his eyes came back into focus, he saw Hermione right in front of him.

"Harry…?" she said his name softly. Her tone told him that she knew what was going on in his head. He couldn't decide if that was comforting or frightening.

"We can wait to go in there," she suggested, "if you want. Just… take your time."

She knew the wounds were still fresh. While her arm and the damage to their bodies were healing, the pain of losing an ally and shouldering their burden still wore on them heavily.

Harry simply nodded, not yet ready to face the room of the only family he had thought he had left, after losing him so recently. The guilt tearing at him made him unsteady and he had to fight to keep himself in control. Years of practice helped him fall into the stiff walk, focusing on the hollow feeling he as he pushed back his pain and fear, putting on the stoic expression, the mask.

And this time, Hermione let him. She sat with him at the table after getting them some food, not commenting on how he hardly ate anything. Then she cleaned up their plates, and she didn't say a word at how unusual it was that he didn't offer to help. He accepted the book she offered him, and she pretended not to notice when he hadn't turned the page in over half an hour. She sat in the room with him, reading herself, and letting Harry's thoughts turn inward as he tried to deal with what had happened.

Sometime later, when the fire was dying down, Hermione looked up from her book and over at him.

"Harry, are you alright?" she asked.

Apparently she had decided that he had had enough time for reflection and introspection, which was really mostly brooding and self-criticism.

When he didn't answer, she spoke again.

"Harry, it wasn't your fault." She didn't need to explain what she was talking about. "Please stop blaming yourself. If I had just been able to…" her voice trailed off and she sighed. "He sacrificed himself so that we would have a chance to finish this… We will honor him by continuing to fight."

He could tell that Hermione was trying to sound sure and give him confidence, but he knew she must be scared, too. A talented wizard with much more experience had died right in front of them- it made them both realize how easily it could have been them. Plus there was the fact that she had almost died from the snake bite.

There was no denying now the danger of their mission and that neither of them might survive. He knew she must feel it, too, but she was trying to be brave, for him.

His eyes found hers and held them. Part of him realized that she might be able to discern his emotions, but he let it go and the mask slipped from his face. Guilt, fear, sadness and the little sliver of hope he was trying so desperately to hold on to showed through.

She reached over and took one of his hands in hers.

"I'm right here," she assured him, "and we can do this."

Despite feeling so down, the corners of his lips tilted up ever so slightly.

* * *

The seasons were rapidly changing. They noticed it even though they were cooped up in 12 Grimmauld Place (which they had learned from Dobby was the address of the House of Black). Death Eaters seemed to know that there was a hideout in the area, as Harry and Hermione often saw them lurking around the street outside. Thankfully, the house was hidden and heavily protected; though they weren't confident it would stay that way forever.

One day sometime in spring, they didn't know what day, since they had long-since lost track, Harry felt an odd sensation in one of the bedrooms. It was on the higher floors, across from the room that had belonged to Sirius. The name on the door read: Regulus. Harry had briefly looked in and scanned the room before, but he had been much more interested in his late godfather's old bedroom. He had been exploring the room further, finally, when he felt something dark and haunting. Immediately, the hair on his neck stood on end and he felt a shill shoot up his spine. He had felt this like before, but it was strange- this is normally how he felt when he was near a Horcrux.

A wave of fear and excitement coursed through him. Surely there couldn't be a Horcrux here, could there? Rushing over to the nearby drawers with his heart now hammering in his chest, Harry began to open and search them frantically. In the bottom drawer, Harry found it, wrapped in some sort of blanket Harry quickly discarded: the next Horcrux. It was a golden locket on a chain. Harry's scar throbbed painfully as he first picked it up.

Running out of the room and down the stairs two at a time, Harry felt a surge of emotions: confusion, triumph, excitement. After weeks of nothing, he had found a Horcrux right under (or above, really) their noses.

"Hermione!" Harry breathed out, winded.

She turned away from what she was doing, cleaning out a cabinet on the ground floor, and looked startled.

"Harry, what is it?"

"Hermione, I've found a Horcrux!"

"What?" she asked. Harry wasn't sure he had ever seen her face look so shocked and confused.

Panting slightly from adrenaline and the trip down several floors in record time, Harry answered, "I found another Horcrux- in a drawer up in the room that had 'Regulus' on the door. I was just looking around the room and I felt strange, like I do around Horcruxes- and it was in a drawer, all wrapped up."

"There was a Horcrux _right here_ the whole time?!" Hermione asked.

"Apparently," Harry answered, still not able to get over the surprise himself.

"Here, look," Harry instructed, holding out the golden locket for Hermione to see.

She scrutinized it from every angle, sensing the dark magic radiating from the cursed object.

"I think you're right," she declared at last, "This is a Horcrux."

"Yeah, now if only we knew how to get rid of it…" Harry muttered, thinking of the cup still sitting in Hermione's bag, harboring a piece of the Dark Lord's soul.

"We could try everything we can think of on this one, too," Hermione said after a moment, "but I doubt it would do any good... if nothing worked on the other one, I don't think this would be any different."

"How would Regulus have gotten a Horcrux? Sirius said that his whole family was into the Dark Arts, but do you think You-Know-Who would have entrusted one to them…?" she asked.

Harry thought on this for a minute.

"I don't know… Bellatrix had one. You-Know-Who doesn't seem like the trusting type, though. I doubt he would have given all of his Horcruxes to Death Eaters. I doubt Bellatrix even knew what it was she was hiding for him. Who knows if Regulus even knew what he had. Either way-" Harry stopped short, realizing that there might be someone who knew.

"Maybe the elf knows," Harry suggested suddenly.

"Oh, yes, he might know how that got here!" Hermione sounded excited that they might find out more information. "Let's go and ask him."

"I'm sure that will be pleasant," Harry muttered, following Hermione to the kitchen.

* * *

Harry leapt back as Kreacher lunged at him, reaching for the locket in his hands.

"You must not touch Master's things! Nasty, filthy-"

"Kreacher!" Hermione shouted in surprise.

"Get away from me, you crazy elf," Harry said, holding the Horcrux out of his reach.

To the great surprise of everyone in the room, Kreacher stopped pursuing Harry and backed up.

There was a pause in which everyone glanced at everyone else silently.

"No!" Kreacher yelled, "No! Give me the locket! Master Regulus's locket!" Despite his continued loud protests, the elf no longer moved toward Harry.

Hermione was watching the scene with a frown.

"Kreacher, shut up!" Harry shouted.

Almost instantly, Kreacher stopped and stood there quietly, gesturing in frustration.

"What happened…?" Harry asked, looking confused.

"Harry, I think you might be his master," Hermione said, thinking quickly. "If Sirius was before…" she trailed off, not wanting to bring up what happened to Sirius.

"Kreacher, who is your master?" she asked, turning toward the house elf.

He glared at her but said nothing.

"Kreacher," Harry asked in an annoyed tone, "who is your master?"

Kreacher looked as though he was struggling with himself before he answered tightly, "Harry Potter." He went on to mumble something about how Harry had escaped the Dark Lord and loved Mudbloods.

Harry looked to Hermione in confusion.

"That must mean Sirius left him to you, Harry," Hermione explained. "So, he has to serve you now."

Returning his eyes to the elf, Harry didn't feel very lucky to have him. However, if might help them get the information they wanted.

"Kreacher," Harry asked in a more forceful tone now, "How did this locket get here?"

Although he didn't look like he wanted to answer, the elf spoke.

"Master Regulus told Kreacher to bring it here."

"Where did he get it?"

"In a cave far away."

Harry thought he saw a pained look quickly cross the old elf's face.

"Do you know what this is?" Harry asked him.

"Kreacher knows it is a dark, horrible thing. Kreacher knows." The elf eyed the locket warily, as if it haunted him.

"What happened to Regulus?"

"Master Regulus… died in the cave. He told Kreacher to bring the locket here and destroy it."

"I guess you couldn't destroy it, then?" Harry asked.

"Kreacher tried many, many things. But Kreacher could not do it. Kreacher could not fulfill his master's wish," the house elf shuddered and for a moment, Harry felt sorry for him. "So Kreacher hid it in his cupboard. But then that other elf came here and Kreacher had to move it so that he would not see it."

"It's not your fault, Kreacher," Hermione told him, trying to make him feel better about not being able to destroy the locket.

"It is Kreacher's fault! It is!" the old elf grieved.

"Kreacher, look, we need the locket," Harry interrupted. "We want to destroy it, too." He hoped that maybe the elf would understand.

After talking with Kreacher, he and Hermione went back upstairs.

* * *

"I don't think he took it very well," Harry said as he sat down on the couch.

"He may not like it," Hermione agreed, sitting next to him," but at least now he knows why we took the locket and that we want to destroy it, too. I think he respects that. And he did tell us that to destroy it, he thinks we need to open the locket."

"Which we don't even know how to do," Harry brought up again, referring to both opening the locket and destroying it.

"Yes, I know. But we still have others to find, and eventually we will come up with a way to destroy them."

She paused, thinking back to the other Horcruxes they had. "What if Bellatrix isn't the only one he gave a Horcrux to hide for him?"

Harry looked at her with interest, waiting for her to continue.

"Well, who are his most trusted followers?" Hermione prompted. "Bellatrix, the Malfoys, and I know Snape is in his inner circle," Hermione said bitterly, "after what happened with Dumbledore."

"Who was it that he put in charge of discipline at Hogwarts? They'll be at the top of his list, too, I bet" Harry suggested.

"Of course," Hermione agreed. "Aberforth said that the Carrows were handling discipline and Snape was acting as the Headmaster." The expression on Hermione's face told Harry that she was troubled and it wasn't difficult for him to guess why.

"Hogwarts will be alright," he told her with as much confidence as he could. "I bet you want to be there, helping them out, but doing this… hopefully we can end it," Harry said. "But if you ever want to go back… I'll understand," he added, part of him doubting she would just go, but still afraid that she would change her mind and leave.

She moved closer to him and said in a firm tone, "No, Harry. I'm not going anywhere unless you are coming with me. I'm just worried about them."

Harry nodded, trying to recall the faces of those she had introduced him to: Luna, the blonde who had been taken and kept in the Malfoys prison with the strange earrings, Ron, the tall, red-headed boy and his sister Ginny who had equally fiery hair, and Neville, who was also pretty tall, with dark hair, and had been covered in minor injuries when they saw him a few months ago.

Having met Neville first and been around him the longest during their unexpected trip to Hogwarts, he stuck out the most. There was something else nagging him about the guy, but Harry couldn't place what it was.

"Your friends looked like they were safe and had things under control, though. Neville seemed to be pretty optimistic," Harry noted, "though maybe that was just because you showed up." The cheerful smile and hug Neville had given Hermione upon seeing her quickly came to Harry's mind. "What, with all the hugging," Harry said before he thought it through.

She narrowed her eyes at him questioningly and Harry wondered how his comment had come across.

"What is that supposed to mean?" she asked with a hint of a challenge in her voice. Harry immediately found himself regretting saying anything about Neville and tried to figure out how to back track.

"Err, nothing," Harry started lamely. "I just… noticed that you two seemed close." Harry cringed a little on the inside; it was a sorry excuse and he knew it.

"Well, we are in the same house and have known each other for years. He had trouble with some of his classes so we would study together fairly often." It seemed like she was going to leave it at that but something in Harry was telling him there might more to it that than being study buddies.

"And…?" he prompted before he could stop himself.

"'And' what?" she asked in an annoyed tone. "We are friends. My first few years at Hogwarts, he was my only friend, until I met Luna and became friends with her and Ginny. Neither of us really fit in; I was a muggle-born, who was top of the class, and he was awkward and had trouble with some of our classes, and some of the other students picked on him a lot."

"Is there anything else you want to know?" she huffed, clearly irritated at whatever his questions seemed to imply.

To Harry's surprise, he realized that there were other things he wanted to know… Did she like Neville? How close were they really? Did she hold Neville's hand like she did his sometimes? Did she talk about the things they talked about with her other friends?

His suddenly spiked interest and desire to know more about her relationship with her friends threw him. Why did he suddenly care so much? He had always liked hearing about her past, Hogwarts, her friends, and her family, but this was different and it bothered him.

Hermione, for her part, had been ignoring him after making it apparent that she was annoyed with him. Did she get annoyed with Neville? Would she be happier back at Hogwarts with him?

"Ugh…" Harry groaned, frustrated with himself for getting so worked up about this all of a sudden. Neville was just another guy, just one of her friends. So what if they had hugged and chatted happily upon reuniting? It had happened months ago- why was he worrying about it now?

Hermione looked over at him.

"What is bothering you, Harry?" she asked, not sounding nearly as annoyed as she had just a minute ago.

"Nothing," Harry told her a little too quickly.

_This is stupid; I'm not about to tell her what's going on in my head. It doesn't even make sense. I just got curious._

She gave him a look, but decided that maybe it was best to just drop it for now. So over the next few days, Harry tried not think about the odd things that he had suddenly wanted to know so badly.

For the majority of the time, he was completely unsuccessful.

One evening, Harry had made them eggs as a late dinner, since he was in the mood for something different instead of having to tell Kreacher to cook like usual. Thankfully, the elf had somewhat gotten over his hate for them in the past weeks. Hermione insisted that it was because they were treating him nicely and had explained why they were taking the locket.

As she finished eating, Hermione commented on how Harry was a good cook.

When Harry's first thought was to wonder if Neville could cook, too, and if he ever had cooked for her, he knew his maddening curiosity wasn't going to just go away.

"Were you and Neville really just friends?" he asked without warning, not giving himself a chance to think about it and lose his nerve. He winced inside at her surprised expression and began to fidget, feeling as though this conversation could be risky.

"Excuse me?" she questioned, not knowing at first how to handle his unexpected bluntness and the random change of topic. "I'm not sure if that is any of your business." Her tone sounded reserved and a little defensive.

Unfortunately, her answer only made it seem more likely to Harry that there was something she was hiding. He tensed up a bit.

"Since when am I not allowed to just ask you a question if I'm curious?" Harry realized as soon as he spoke that his words came out more harshly than he had intended.

"Since when are you so curious about this?" she challenged.

"Since now," he responded, his voice raised slightly. "So?"

"I don't have to tell you anything," she said in a haughty tone, "especially if you are going to ask like that."

Harry snorted in frustration and was about to tell her to forget it when he realized that wouldn't get him an answer and that it would still be on his mind.

"Fine," Harry said, trying to push the frustration out and calm down. "I'm sorry if it isn't any of my business. You don't have to tell me anything. I just… wanted to know. Usually you tell me whatever I want to know about your past." Harry looked at her nervously, hoping she wasn't mad and that she wouldn't get the wrong idea, whatever that was.

"I'm sorry I overreacted. It was just really sudden, and you seemed to imply something about it before, so I wasn't sure what you were trying to say," she sighed. "A lot of the other students would talk about it at school, or tease us about being a couple."

When she paused, Harry's heart sunk inexplicably.

"But we weren't."

"You weren't?" Harry repeated unnecessarily.

"No, we were never a couple. I think of him as just a good friend. He's more like a brother to me than anything romantic. And even then I don't know if we are close enough to be considered siblings, since I'm an only child. We mostly studied together or talked about schoolwork."

Harry felt immensely relieved, which in turn made him feel incredibly uncomfortable and confused.

"I think you and I have talked about more personal things than I have with Neville, even though I have known him longer."

This gave Harry a strange feeling of nervousness, and his lips curved into a small smile of their own accord. Hermione hesitated, as if only then realizing what she had said, and quickly spoke again.

"So, why did you want to know, anyway?" Hermione asked, looking at him with curious expression. He didn't miss that her voice was purposefully casual. Maybe she just didn't want another argument.

"Oh, err, don't know really. Just… we've talked about stuff before, and you said to ask if I was curious about anything." Feeling like that wasn't a good enough reason, Harry added, "And, last time we talked about it, you said how neither of you fit in, but you became friends with each other, so I thought, maybe… well, you know…"

The way Hermione was looking at him made Harry feel as though he was being studied under a microscope.

_I wonder if this is how Hermione's books feel… _

"Well," Hermione said a little bit hesitantly, "I would guess you have never had a girlfriend being stuck at the Malfoys, right?"

Harry tried to gauge her question, but she didn't seem overly interested.

"Hah, the only people I usually got to see were irritable Death Eaters and poor, stuffy, old prisoners. Whenever the Malfoys had younger guests or Draco brought friends over, it was almost always guys. Not that I would have been interested in anyone they had over anyway."

Hermione nodded and decided to change the subject, asking him about when they next needed to get supplies.

"Hang on," Harry interrupted, "you asked me. You _have _been around guys your age, so, have you?"

"Have I what?" Hermione asked, not looking at him directly.

"Er, you know, had a… boyfriend?" he asked, now not sure if he wanted to know the answer.

_I'm only asking to be fair. Besides, she asked me first. _Harry tried to reason with himself as he awaited her response.

"Well… no. I haven't." Harry could see a light blush cross her cheeks.

"Really?" he asked, genuinely surprised if it was true, but not positive she was telling the truth.

"Yes, really," she said sharply, "now why don't we talk about something productive like who else You-Know-Who might have given Horcruxes to hide or how to destroy them?"

He could tell by her tone that the topic of relationships was closed and he accepted it willingly, feeling comforted for some reason, though he wasn't sure why she seemed embarrassed.


	24. The Plan

Hope you like this chapter. Since it is a bit shorter, I will try to post another sooner if I can. Thank you so much to everyone who is reading and/or reviewing!

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**Chapter 24: The Plan**

"They should be getting out of Hogwarts for summer in another few months," Hermione thought aloud one evening.

"I wonder if Snape will even let them leave," Harry shot back, feeling disheartened again at their lack of progress.

"Surely he can't keep them holed up there all summer! Everyone is bound to notice over a hundred missing witches and wizards."

"I'm not sure they can do anything about it anymore, Hermione," Harry responded glumly. "Some of them must know what's going on at Hogwarts."

Hermione sighed and decided to drop the unhappy subject.

"I wish Tonks was here; she was always good at cheering us up when we were being negative," she said.

"Yeah. Do you think she's going to have the baby soon?" Harry asked, remembering that she had been pretty big when they left.

"Oh, she must be getting close!" Hermione answered, trying to recall how far along Tonks had been. "She is probably due in just a few weeks."

"I wonder where Lupin is," Harry commented, and he saw Hermione's face fall somewhat.

"I don't know… I hope he will be there for the delivery. If he couldn't be there, that would be such a shame…"

"I'm sure he'll be there," Harry told her. He knew he couldn't be sure, but he wanted to think that Lupin would be there.

They fell silent for several minutes until Harry sighed and spoke up, sounding restless.

"Hermione, it's almost the summer! I can't just sit around anymore. I know you've found some useful books here, and we have been practicing our spells, and we've been safe, but I feel like we aren't really getting anywhere! Aside from accidentally finding the locket, we have no idea what to do about the Horcruxes. We don't even know how to destroy them!"

Hermione sighed.

"I know. Don't you think the same things are bothering me, too?"

"Then what can we do? We don't know where to look for the other Horcruxes, there are Death Eaters outside all the time, and we are barely able to get supplies without them catching us." Harry dropped his voice somewhat, "You know this place isn't going to be safe forever, and the longer we wait, the more lives are lost."

"I know, Harry, I know," Hermione said, her voice a mix of frustration and sadness. "I want to do more, I want to figure it out, but it seems like we are just stuck. The practice we have been doing will help if you have to fight You-Know-Who, but I'm running out of spells to teach you and we are running out of time."

Having a sudden idea, Harry summoned Dobby.

"Harry Potter, sir, it is so good to see you!" the elf said happily upon seeing his friend. Harry glanced at a puzzled Hermione before looking back to Dobby.

"Hi, Dobby, do you have some time to talk with us?" Harry asked.

"So kind, Harry Potter… yes, Dobby has time. The dark wizards do not keep track of the house elves much- they do not care as long as we do our jobs, sir. If we don't…" he shuddered before changing the topic. "None of the other elves leave. They have nowhere to go."

"Right," Harry said, "then I want to ask you about a few things… First," Harry hesitated for a second, hoping this was a good idea, "how is Hogwarts?"

Dobby shook his head gravely, "Hogwarts, sir, is not good. Dark Arts is being taught and Dobby has heard they are checking blood lines to see who the purebloods are. Dobby isn't supposed to know this, but he hears things when people don't know he is listening."

There was a mischievous glint in his large eyes, and Harry was suddenly struck with inspiration.

"Dobby, did you ever hear anything when you were at the Malfoys- anything about Mr. Malfoy or one of the other Death Eaters protecting something for You-Know-Who, or hiding something for him?"

"Harry, that's brilliant," Hermione said enthusiastically. "It would really help if you knew something, Dobby," she said to the elf, hoping that he could tell them something useful.

Dobby stopped, thinking it over and trying to remember, while Harry and Hermione waited in anticipation.

"Hmm… yes, Dobby did hear something like that. There was a book He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had that he said was very important. Mr. Malfoy told Dobby never to touch it or look for it. The things he said he would do if it was found, sir…" a violent shiver shook Dobby as if there was a mini earthquake just where he was standing. "Dobby could tell it was a dark object. I stayed far away from it, sir. And I never went looking for it."

"Where is it now? Is it still at the house?" Harry asked in a rush.

"Dobby does not know, but it was there for years. The Manor is a very safe place for very bad people, sir." The elf looked scared just thinking about his former place of residence, which was more like a prison than a home.

"Dobby this is great!" Harry told him, feeling adrenaline rushing through him at the prospect of a new lead. "We need whatever it is Malfoy's hiding." He looked at Hermione to see if she agreed. "It's got to be one, right?"

"We can't be sure," Hermione cautioned, "but it certainly sounds like it. We'll just have to try to get it and find out. But breaking into Malfoy Manor would be… problematic."

Harry turned to the house elf he had known for so many years and somewhere under his excitement, he felt guilt begin to creep in.

"Dobby, you've been there before- since we broke out- could you get in there again?" he asked, still sounding eager. "If you could get it for us…"

"Harry, no," Hermione interjected. "It's way too dangerous for Dobby to do this by himself. You have no idea what might be protecting it- or what if he gets caught?"

"Hermione, we need that book- I'm sure of it. There's no way the two of us are going to be able to sneak into Malfoy Manor- we can hardly leave the house without having a close call! If there's a way to get Dobby in, we just might have a chance!"

"But Harry-" to their surprise, the usually polite elf cut her off.

"Dobby will do it," he said valiantly. "Dobby wishes to help Harry Potter and his miss. Dobby will find a way to get in again and he will get the book!"

Harry smiled at his friend's bravery despite the fear he felt for him.

"Thanks, Dobby. Just make sure you are careful."

Hermione still didn't seem to approve of this idea, but she remained silent.

"Oh and when do the Hogwarts students get out for the summer?" Harry asked, remembering that Hermione had been wondering.

Dobby shook his head, "Not this year, sir. Everyone must stay at Hogwarts over the summer. They are not letting anyone go home for now."

"What?!" Hermione shouted, outraged. "How can they keep everyone from going home to their families? I bet most of them wouldn't come back!"

"That's probably the point, Hermione," Harry reasoned. "If You-Know-Who is trying to teach them his way, I doubt he's going to let them all go home to their parents so they can snap them back to normal. I don't think anyone would let their kids go back if they had the chance and knew what was actually going on there now."

Hermione, who still looked furious, stated, "Then we are going back to Hogwarts. We have to find out how bad it is now and see if there is anything we can do to help."

"Hermione…" Harry began, but the look on her face stopped him from continuing.

"Harry, Hogwarts has been my home for most of the last six and a half years. I am not going to sit around in some musty old house while everyone there is suffering. I need to see if I can help." Her tone left no room for arguments or concerns- she was serious about this. "Besides, what if they found something by now, but they couldn't reach us? We told them to keep a lookout, remember?"

Her words from before came back to him.

'_I'm not going anywhere unless you are coming with me.'_

Did that still apply now? His face must have portrayed his thoughts, because Hermione's anger deflated.

"Harry, I meant what I said before." With no reaction to his surprised expression, she continued, "I'm not going without you. But please… this is important to me."

Their eyes locked and he immediately knew his answer, even as he sat in silence, considering. Eventually, he nodded, and she looked relieved.

"Thank you," she said quietly, knowing that what she was asking was dangerous and that he wouldn't have done it on his own.

Harry was aware that Hermione was too smart not to realize the risks involved, but she was determined to go anyway. He couldn't stop the grin that spread partway across his face.

"There's that Gryffindor courage," Harry commented jokingly. "Are Gryffindors known for being stubborn, too…?"

"Yes, we are," Hermione said a little proudly, causing Harry to laugh.

"So, it's decided then; we are going back to Hogwarts, and Dobby is going to check on the Malfoy Manor." Harry stated.

"Yes, but we shouldn't rush it- either of us. Dobby, you need to make sure you can get in safely before trying. And we need a plan before we end up running into dementors again," Hermione explained. "If Dobby can scout out the area, maybe he can find us a way into the Manor without getting caught. Then he won't have to try to get the book alone."

Harry nodded.

And so the next few days were spent planning their trip to Hogwarts. Dobby had returned there and was using his spare time to try to find a way into the Malfoys and listening extra carefully to see if any of the Death Eaters at the school mentioned anything that could be useful to him when trying to sneak in.

Finally, Hermione had agreed that there was nothing else they could plan for (they even had a plan for if the Giant Squid was somehow being controlled and used as a guardian to keep out intruders near the lake), and soon they would be leaving Number 12 Grimmauld Place for Hogwarts. They planned on returning to the Noble House of Black after they were done, if possible.

Before they left, however, they were waiting for an update from Dobby on Malfoy Manor. And when he did show up, they found their plans altered.

"Dobby is certain that it is there, sir, but it is protected by magic Dobby does not know. Someone is always at the house, and from what Dobby heard, You-Know-Who is there a lot."

Harry and Hermione exchanged nervous looks- if Voldemort was often at the Manor, it would be nearly impossible to get the Horcrux.

"But Dobby heard that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named will be away for several days- soon! It may be the best chance for Harry Potter to get in, but it will be dangerous. But Dobby does not think it wise to try to get into the house, sir. It will be very dangerous."

"We know it will be dangerous, but we don't have a choice, Dobby," Harry explained feeling a mix of nervous and excited despite his weariness from the day. "Can you get us in?"

"Dobby thinks so, sir, but Dobby will not be able to protect Harry Potter and Miss Hermione once they get onto the property. They know of Dobby's magic, and Dobby is not more powerful than witches and wizards, sir. Dobby's magic is better when it is a surprise."

Something about the elf's explanation made Harry's lips curve into a small smile.

"It's alright, Dobby," Hermione assured him kindly, "we will be careful. We just need your help to get there."

"I guess the trip to Hogwarts is going to have to wait," Harry said, watching Hermione's reaction. "If You-Know-Who is going to be gone soon, then we have to try to get in then."

She nodded, and Harry was glad to see that she didn't seem to have reservations about going to the Malfoys' first.

* * *

Harry and Hermione sat across from each other in the living room, both full of nervous energy. Everything seemed to be tapping and fidgeting- feet, wands, fingers. Neither of them was looking forward to returning to the Malfoys' and walking right into a Death Eater hideout. They were both dressed in dark clothes, and Hermione's charmed little bag was packed in case they couldn't return.

With a soft pop, Dobby suddenly appeared, and Hermione nearly jumped out of her seat. Harry had flinched, too, but tried to pretend he hadn't.

"It is time, Harry Potter," Dobby said. "We must be going now if we is going."

When Harry noticed the elf's hands trembling, he felt a wave of guilt hit him again at asking his friend to do this. He knew it was difficult for Dobby to return to the house which had long been his prison, and he had already asked him to do it more than once.

"Maybe we shouldn't do this… it is really dangerous," Harry said. "I could just go myself…"

"And how would you do that, Harry?" Hermione asked without hesitation. "You can't even get onto the grounds without Dobby."

"Yeah, I guess…" Harry admitted.

"We'll be alright," Hermione told him. Then, in a more confident voice, she added, "We can do this."

Their eyes met, and Harry drew strength from the determination he saw there. He knew she must be scared, too.

He took a deep breath before taking one of Dobby's hands, watching Hermione grasp the other. They nodded and told the house elf they were ready. And with a pop, the House of Black was gone.


	25. Something Unexpected

Here's the next chapter! I think the title is fitting for several reasons. If you have the time, let me know what you think. Thanks to everyone! You guys are great!

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**Chapter 25: Something Unexpected**

They appeared outside of Malfoy Manor, Harry guessed just within the barriers that protected the house. It was late, and Harry was glad Hermione had suggested the dark clothing. The group crept quickly around behind the house. Dobby motioned toward a side door near the back of the house. Once they got closer, Harry and Hermione paused to slip under Harry's invisibility cloak.

Dobby somehow managed to get the door open, and Harry silently led the way inside. Thankfully, he knew the layout of the house well.

As planned, Dobby split up from the other two to go check the rest of the house. Harry led Hermione to a room he figured would be empty to wait for Dobby- his old room.

"Let's just wait in here," Harry whispered almost inaudibly, pulling Hermione into the room and away from the doorway.

The room was silent other than the sound of their quiet breathing under the cloak. Not wanting to think about where he was, Harry's eyes found a familiar spot in the room- the window.

"Was this… your room?" Hermione asked quietly after a minute.

Harry kept his eyes on the darkness outside.

"Yes," he answered flatly.

He was trying hard not to let his mind focus on where he was and all the memories associated with this place. The feelings of fear and helplessness, sickness and loneliness, all threatened to surface and envelop him. With effort, he kept them at arm's length.

Harry felt a touch on his arm as Hermione tried to gently turn him to face her. Slowly, he complied. Neither of them had realized how close they were standing, squeezed under the cloak until they faced each other.

A sharp intake of breath told him that now Hermione had noticed too, and for a few seconds, Harry froze.

Getting over the surprise of their proximity first, Hermione spoke.

"Harry, are you alright?" she asked in a whisper. "We can go to a different room," she offered.

"No," Harry answered, avoiding the first question, "I just-"

A crash from somewhere outside of the room cut him off. Yelling immediately followed.

They rushed to the doorway, Harry's cloak slipping off of them in their haste. Hermione grabbed it, and balled it up in her arms. A high-pitched yelp reached their ears, followed shortly by Dobby, who ran at them gasping.

"We must go! They has found Dobby!" the elf urged, a dark green blur running in the dim light. "Dobby cannot leave with his magic!"

Realizing they had little time, Harry darted out of the room, the other two at his heels. There was noise coming from the bottom of the steps, so Harry opted to go the other way down the hall. It didn't leave them many choices, but they needed to avoid being caught.

Halfway down the hall, two smaller corridors intersected. Harry turned left and stopped abruptly. He had almost run straight into Draco. Harry met Draco's icy eyes, panic beginning to stir up in him. To Harry's surprise, Draco looked as if he had seen a ghost. His features appeared haunted.

Draco glanced away, toward the stairs where the commotion was coming from. He stepped aside swiftly.

Not sure what to think, Harry led the other two down the hall past Draco, and into one of the two rooms there.

Throwing the cloak back around them, they huddled together against the wall next to the door so that they might be able to hear what was going on.

"Where did they go?" a shrill voice asked an instant after they had cleared the doorway. Harry felt Hermione wince next to him, and he knew she recognized the voice. He could still hear Dobby breathing heavily, but it hardly registered in his mind.

There was a brief hesitation.

"That way," Draco's voice answered.

Harry held his breath. He was sure Hermione and Dobby could hear his heart pounding. Dobby had somehow been stopped from using his magic to leave, the barrier for he and Hermione to apparate was outside, a decent distance away, and now, in seconds, one of his least favorite Death Eaters was about to burst into the room where they were hiding.

But she didn't.

The noise grew more distant, and he could hear crashes and a loud, threatening voice moving away from them. Harry tensed as someone entered the room.

It was Draco.

"I know you're here," he said quickly, "come out."

Harry slipped out from under the cloak and revealed himself, meeting Draco's stare.

"What are you doing here, Potter? You've only got a minute before-"

A noise behind him cut him off, and Harry whirled around to see Dobby stumble out from under the cloak, swaying unsteadily.

Harry rushed to him and kneeled down.

"Dobby, what-" he stopped, his eyes widening. There was a slowly growing patch of red on Dobby's pillowcase. "Dobby…" Harry trailed off. He didn't know what else to say. His chest tightened and he felt lost.

"Dobby, must save Harry Potter," the elf said as he staggered toward Harry. "We must… be getting out of here now, sir."

"He needs medical attention," Hermione said, pulling off the cloak and walking forward, looking upset.

Harry looked to Hermione, his eyes silently pleading with her to help his friend.

"You don't have time to heal him," Draco cut in quickly. "If you don't leave now, you're all dead."

Harry turned back to Draco, who looked uncomfortable and annoyed.

"I can take the elf to Hogwarts," Draco said. "Someone there can treat him. Don't know if they can save him, but it's your best bet." From his tone, you might think he was trying to start a fight rather than offering to help save someone's life.

For a moment, Harry was too stunned to speak. Sure, Draco had been acting weird lately, but this?

"We both know you aren't going to leave him behind, and if you get caught here, You-Know-Who will kill us both," Draco said as a way of explaining, looking irritated and urgent.

Harry wasn't sure how accurate that was, but he wouldn't be that surprised if Voldemort would kill Draco for not outing him in the first place.

"Where are you, you filthy little vermin?!" hearing her angry voice loudly, Harry figured he didn't have many options, or time to analyze Draco's sudden chivalry.

Harry nodded to Draco, helping Dobby toward him. He quickly reached back and pulled his father's cloak from Hermione's hands, draping it around Dobby.

"It's going to be alright, Dobby," Harry whispered, his voice shaking because he knew it might not be true. "My cloak will keep you safe."

"Draco?!" the woman screeched.

Harry saw a flicker of fear cross Draco's face.

"I need to get back to Hogwarts," he answered her in what Harry suspected was his best attempt at a confident voice considering the situation. "He asked me to do something important, remember?"

"Go," Draco added to them in a whisper, "out the window. I can apparate. It's my house."

Harry simply nodded, not questioning it, and crossed the room to the window with Hermione. She whipped out her wand and opened it hurriedly.

"Just because the Dark Lord gave you another job to do, doesn't mean you can do whatever you want," she answered in a patronizing tone. "And remember last time he had you take care of something? Didn't go very well, did it?" she taunted.

Hermione was out the window and had landed on the ground safely. Harry could hardly see her in the darkness.

"I don't need to be reminded of that," Draco spat. "And I don't need _your _permission to leave."

With one final look at his childhood rival, Harry began to climb out the window.

"And where is the elf?! I saw him come up here! If he isn't here, I'll kill you- son of Lucius or not!"

Harry could hear that she was getting closer now and froze. If she saw him, Draco and Dobby would be in even more danger. If she had checked the whole other side of the hall and found nothing, she would punish Draco harshly for sending her in the wrong direction.

Thinking quickly, Harry let go and landed on the ground.

"Get out of here," Harry told Hermione, "go back to Grimmauld. I need to do something first."

"Harry, no," Hermione argued, but they heard more yelling from the room they had just been in and Harry swore he heard the word 'window.' It must still be open.

"I will meet you there in a minute. Go!" Harry demanded and he took off running toward the other side of the house, his heart pounding.

He knew Bellatrix wasn't going to let Draco go without interrogating him about if he had seen Dobby and why he had told her to look the other way. And Dobby needed help, fast.

Looking up, Harry saw a window that had to be from the other side of the hallway, where Draco had told her to check. He pulled out his replacement wand.

"Reducto!"

The window exploded, and Harry heard several noises and shrieks inside before turning and sprinting for the anti-apparition line, knowing he had little time. He was almost there…

Reaching a good distance, he felt relief begin to calm him. Just as he went to apparate, he felt something grab him.

Everything that happened next was a blur. There was a dark figure apparating with him. He knew his destination was Grimmauld Place, and now it was too late to change course.

And Hermione was waiting for him inside.

The doorstep of Number 12 started to come into focus and Harry blindly shoved the dark figure away from him. He whipped around, frantically searching for the door. Grabbing the handle he turned and slammed his shoulder against the door.

His eyes quickly found Hermione, who was standing a few feet away, her wand pointed at him. He ran to her and took hold of her arms.

"Apparate us somewhere," he said, "hurry!"

There was a yell from behind him.

Not pausing to ask questions, Hermione held on to him and in a blink, they were gone.

A second later, they stumbled into a new location.

Using their grips on each other, they steadied themselves from the fast trip.

"What happened?" Hermione asked, sounding anxious.

"When I was trying to apparate, someone grabbed me," Harry told her. "…Grimmauld Place won't be safe anymore." He looked down at the ground. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright, Harry. I suppose we are back to staying in a tent, then," she reasoned. "We've been spoiled, staying at Grimmauld Place." Her tone was lighter as she said this, and Harry could tell she was trying to make it so he didn't feel bad.

Harry sighed, shivering a bit in the cold air already.

"Let's get a tent set up, then," he suggested.

A few minutes later, they had magically constructed a decent tent, similar to the ones they had stayed in before. Since it was already dark and quite cold outside, they wasted no time in getting inside the tent and making a small fire.

"Where are we, anyway?" Harry asked.

"The Forest of Dean," Hermione answered. "My parents and I went on vacation here, once."

They fell silent, and before long Harry's mind wandered back to Malfoy Manor. Dobby had been hurt badly trying to help him. Staring at the fire, Harry lost himself in his thoughts.

_Why did I ask him to help us? I knew it was dangerous. I shouldn't have asked him to take that risk for me. We didn't even find anything there. It was a complete waste._

"Harry," Hermione called softly. She had moved to sit next to him. "What happened wasn't your fault," she told him.

Harry tensed, once again caught off guard by her ability to read him and angry with himself.

"You couldn't have known that would happen."

"I shouldn't have asked him to take us there. It was too dangerous," Harry told her, his voice strained. "It's my fault he got hurt. We don't even know what happened to him. And it was all for nothing."

"If there is any chance of healing him, I'm sure someone at Hogwarts would be able to save him."

Somehow, that didn't make Harry feel much better. He kept picturing Dobby's big, yellow-green eyes, looking up at him with respect, and the red stain spreading across his shabby, old pillowcase.

"You don't get it, Hermione."

"What don't I understand?"

"It's my fault!" he told her loudly. "It was my idea to go there- it's my fault he's hurt! I'm sick of everyone getting hurt because of me!"

Hermione hesitated for a moment, the pieces connecting in her mind.

"This isn't just about Dobby, is it?" she asked cautiously.

He averted his eyes away from her and sat silently. Eventually, he answered a quiet, "No."

"Harry," she moved a bit closer to him, speaking in a gentle tone, "that wasn't your fault, either."

"I was the one who wanted to go there," he said finally. "You said it might be a trap before we went. You were right… and you got hurt."

The pain and regret in his voice tugged at her heart; she could tell he was choked up.

"I agreed to go with you," Hermione reminded him. "And I don't regret it."

The memory of her standing with him in front of his parents' grave came back to him as he met her eyes. His feelings of guilt and self-loathing gradually lessened, for now.

There was something in the look she was giving him that he couldn't read, something important. The light from their small fire danced in her eyes, making the flecks of lighter brown shine. Without really meaning to, he smiled slightly.

"Thank you."

The words left his lips so effortlessly. He hadn't even meant to say anything, but remembering how she had been there and how she had conjured a beautiful arrangement of flowers for his parents' grave, it seemed like the right thing to do.

She returned his smile.

"You're welcome."

Her eyes were searching his, and without warning, something nervous and jumpy spread through Harry. Feeling unsettled, he blinked and broke their eye contact, his eyes darting back toward the fire.

"Well, err, what should we do now?" Harry asked, trying to figure out what had gotten him so flustered all of a sudden.

Hermione took a few seconds to answer, and when she did, her voice sounded different than it had a moment ago.

"Maybe we should go to Hogwarts. You left your cloak with Dobby, and we could make sure he's alright. We were planning to go there soon, anyway."

Harry nodded, not finding a fault in her logic.

"To Hogwarts, then," he affirmed.

"For now, we should get some rest. I'll take first watch while you sleep," she told him, standing up.

"Are you sure? You can sleep first," he offered, getting up also.

"I'm sure," she said. "Now get some rest. You must be exhausted."

"Alright, fine. Wake me in a few hours, though," Harry reluctantly agreed, "or whenever you get tired."

"I will," Hermione assured him.

She shifted to move toward the front of the tent, but paused. For a second, she seemed to be debating something with herself, before she turned back toward Harry. He watched her with mild curiosity, wondering what she wanted.

Her eyes met his before quickly looking away, and he was sure he had seen a bit of uncertainty there. This puzzled Harry even more.

Before either of them could think about it further, Hermione took a quick step forward, placed one hand on his shoulder, leaned in, and pressed her lips lightly against his cheek.

In an instant, Harry was a mess of unexpected sensations. He felt his face and body heat up, his heart jumped and picked up its pace considerably, his stomach tightened and felt a bit squirmy, and his voice box got lost in the mix.

She moved back hastily, and spun around toward the exit.

"Goodnight," was all she said before disappearing out of the tent.

The sudden rush of feelings had left him a little dazed, but Harry was sure he had seen a blush on her cheeks before she turned away, too. And her voice had definitely not sounded normal. He swallowed thickly.

For several minutes, Harry stood rooted to the spot, not sure what to think, but thinking so many things at once that the idea of moving simply never occurred to him. When he finally did lie down on his cot, he laid awake for quite a while, replaying their conversation and the kiss in his mind.

Having no previous experience with such things between friends, Harry really had no idea what it was supposed to mean. Was it even supposed to mean anything? What was he supposed to do? Was he supposed to do anything?

Not until the fire in the tent was only a smoldering pile of embers did Harry finally fall asleep.


	26. I Solemnly Swear

This chapter is decently shorter, so I'll try to update again soon. Sorry I took a bit longer to update for those of you who noticed. I've been sick the last week. But no worries, I am trying to stick to updating every few days. Thanks for reading and the continued support!

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**Chapter 26: I Solemnly Swear…**

"Harry," Hermione said for the third time, shaking his shoulder to try to wake him.

Noise reached his ears again, and slowly, Harry opened his eyes, blinking as they adjusted to the dim lighting.

"Hermione," he said with a voice still raspy from sleep, "what's wrong?" Her face came into focus not far from his. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine," she answered, "but I'm feeling pretty tired… Do you think you could take over for a little while?"

Harry, who felt like he had hardly slept, sat up and found his glasses.

"Sure, I can try to stay up for a bit," he told her.

"Harry, you look dreadful! Couldn't you sleep?" Her tone conveyed her concern for him clearly.

"Err, I slept, just not that much," he admitted. "But it's alright. You should get some rest now. It wasn't your fault I couldn't get to sleep."

A few seconds later, Harry's tired brain caught up to him and realized that it had, in fact, been her fault that it had taken him so long to fall asleep. His face heated up as he remembered why.

"Are you sure?" she asked, not looking convinced that he was okay. Now she seemed nervous, too. "Is something bothering you?"

"No," Harry answered a little too quickly. "No, I just… have trouble sleeping sometimes."

He stood up, pulling on his jacket as he walked to the table in the tent. Picking up an apple, he glanced at Hermione. Apparently she had been watching him, and their eyes briefly met before she looked away.

"Well, I'll be out here… if you want anything," Harry told her uncertainly.

"Alright," Hermione answered. "Thank you."

"Goodnight."

After he said this, he saw a light blush spread across her face. He smiled at her in what he hoped was a reassuring way and left the tent.

* * *

Harry wasn't sure how much time had passed when he heard a shuffling noise from within the tent, but it hadn't felt like very long. A minute later, Hermione emerged from their shelter, looking troubled. Harry glanced up at her and, judging that nothing serious was wrong, waited to see what she would do.

Without speaking, she took a seat next to him outside the tent.

For several minutes, they sat in silence, looking out into the dark woods surrounding them. They were each lost in their own thoughts and not entirely sure how to bridge the small gap between them.

Eventually, Hermione spoke.

"I couldn't sleep, either," Hermione admitted. "Maybe the pressure of everything going on is just getting to us."

Harry looked at her but found that he wasn't sure what to say, so he returned his gaze to the trees. It had been a struggle to stay focused on keeping watch before Hermione had come out.

In the pause that followed, Harry could almost feel the tension coming from the witch beside him.

"Harry," she said finally, her voice sounding different than usual, "is everything alright… really?"

Harry turned, and his green eyes quickly found hers. She looked anxious, uncertain, and it bothered Harry. The fact that they had become more comfortable around one another was something he wasn't used to, but he had grown to like it.

"You know, with us, and everything," she added, her eyes looking away. Hearing the hesitations and doubt in her voice, Harry frowned.

Ignoring her question, he asked first, "Hermione, are _you_ alright?"

She nodded, adding, "I think so, yes," before he continued.

"Then everything is fine," he told her sincerely, giving her a warm, but weary, smile.

If she was alright, then things between them were okay as far as he was concerned.

"You just didn't seem to want to talk, is all," Hermione explained, feeling silly for over-analyzing it when he answered.

"I'm just tired," he said. "I was almost falling asleep when you came out here."

"Maybe… we should both stay up and keep watch together. That way, we can help each other stay awake." Her reasoning made perfect sense to Harry, especially in his exhausted state.

"Good idea," he told her.

They sat in a mostly-comfortable silence for several minutes. Before long, the elf who had saved Harry's life took over his thoughts. He didn't even know if Dobby was still alive, or what his chances of recovering were.

Sensing that Hermione was about to speak, Harry's train of thought stopped short.

"So, how are you doing?" she asked gently.

He hesitated, which wasn't lost on Hermione.

"I don't know," he answered in a low voice.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly.

Harry nodded once, and they fell silent again. He glanced at Hermione and noticed that she seemed to be having trouble keeping her eyes open.

"Are you sure you don't want to try and sleep?" Harry asked. "We need that brain of yours working at full power if we are going to come up with a plan to sneak into Hogwarts again without getting caught." He smiled to himself slightly, thinking that had sounded a bit silly. He really was tired. "Not to mention for the stealthy navigating once we get in."

"Oh, I forgot to tell you!" Hermione exclaimed, her eyes brightening. "Lupin gave me the Marauder's Map when he came to visit Tonks in case we needed it. He must've thought we might end up going to Hogwarts for something."

"Really?" Harry asked excitedly, most of his drowsiness temporarily forgotten. "The map he and my dad and Sirius made?"

"Yes," she answered. "Do you want to see it?"

"Yeah!"

"Then I'll be right back," she told him.

With that, she stood and went back into the tent, returning a minute later with a thick, folded piece of parchment.

She reclaimed her spot next to him, and his eyes immediately found a completely blank piece of folded parchment. He frowned at her, looking so thoroughly disappointed that she couldn't help but laugh quietly.

Giving him a mysterious smile, Hermione pulled out her wand.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," she recited, tapping the paper.

"I got that out of Fred and George before I confiscated it. I would have looked foolish if I brought it to a teacher and it ended up blank again."

Harry watched with rapt attention as inked words spread across the paper like magic. _It is magic. _

_ 'Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs…'_

Seeing the names of the Marauders appear on the front, Harry grinned. Hermione handed it to him and watched as he carefully opened the folds of the enormous map.

"I wouldn't try to open it all at once," she warned.

Harry listened, and instead looked it over in small parts.

"It is very well-made, even things like polyjuice potion and invisibility cloaks can't fool it. The person's name will still show up. Animagi show up with their normal names, too, which is how Lupin found out about Pettigrew and Sirius being innocent."

"Wait, I know Wormtail became friends with them and was one of the Marauders… and Sirius said Lupin found out that he was innocent because he saw Wormtail on the map, meaning Sirius hadn't killed him… But why was Wormtail hiding at Hogwarts? And how? Was he in his animagus form?"

"Yes," Hermione answered. "We think he was actually posing as Ginny's brother Ron's rat."

"So, he lived as a rat for years…?" Harry asked, looking disgusted.

"It seems that way," Hermione told him.

They spent a while looking at the map, with Hermione occasionally explaining things or commenting on a person or place. She told him who some of the teachers were, pointing out their locations, and fretting over how some of them weren't in their usual quarters.

"Hang on," Harry said some time later, "where are Neville and Luna and Ginny and Ron?"

"They should still be in the Room of Requirement. It doesn't show up on the map and neither do the people inside. It's unplottable, so that might be why it isn't on there, or maybe the Marauder's never found the room; we only did by accident."

He went back to scanning the map with interest. Reading the names of the rooms, he found many classes similar to subjects he had learned at the Malfoys: Potions, Transfiguration, and Charms. However, there were other subjects that he had only heard about from Hermione, too.

There were greenhouses outside that said Herbology, a subject that Harry hadn't learned much of at the Malfoys. There were also rooms in the castle for Muggle Studies, Ancient Runes, and Defense Against the Dark Arts (which Harry wasn't surprised he hadn't been taught). A section of one of the towers read Divination, which Harry remembered Hermione saying was complete rubbish. He smiled slightly. The thought of Hermione putting down a school subject was amusing when normally she seemed like she would be a great student.

Realizing he hadn't heard anything from her in a while, Harry looked over at Hermione to find her eyes closed peacefully.

_She must've fallen asleep. We were both really tired. I don't even think she slept at all earlier._

Now that the small amount of focus he still had wasn't on the map, he noticed that she was leaning against him more than she had been when she was awake. Harry felt some of the odd sensations from earlier that night return.

_Should I wake her? I think I can stay awake a little longer on my own._

He looked at Hermione again, who was quite close to him, resting calmly. The memory of her leaning in to him and kissing his cheek replayed in his mind for the hundredth time.

_I don't want to wake her- she finally got to sleep. And it is definitely warmer like this…_

The memory combined with the nervous feelings returning led his partially conscious mind to a thought that was both thrilling and unsettling...

She had kissed him, so why not? His eyes flickered back down to her cheek, which wasn't far from his face. Would she be okay with it if he did?

Curiosity got the better of his tired mindfulness.

Noticing his fast heartbeat, he slowly leaned in and let his lips lightly touch her cheek.

When he pulled back, he noticed a small smile quirking up the corner of Hermione's lips. A moment later, her eyes opened halfway.

Harry froze; his whole body was tense and silent other than his pounding heart. Her smile widened slightly as her eyes closed again, and she leaned in closer to him.

For a terrifying second, Harry wondered if she was going to kiss him. But she simply moved to rest against his shoulder more comfortably, and, Harry assumed by her quick return to peaceful stillness, fell back to sleep.

He let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. Exhaustion was still fighting to take over, and he felt his body calm down.

Now that he was relaxed, he struggled to focus his mind on staying vigilant for just a few more hours.


	27. That I Am Up to No Good

Okay, here's the next one. Hope you like the chapter and idea I'm developing here. Thank you guys so much for the support! You're awesome!

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**Chapter 27: That I Am Up to No Good**

Harry was staring ahead mindlessly into the forest. If he had been awake enough to think, he might have wondered how he had managed to stay conscious this long. But he was determined to let Hermione sleep.

Just as the sky far above was beginning to turn a lighter shade, he felt her stir against him. She shifted slightly before slowly opening her eyes.

"Harry?" she asked, sounding confused. Her eyes darted around for several seconds before she seemed to realize that she was leaning into him.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said quickly, pushing away from him, "did I… fall asleep on you?" A blush spread across her face.

"It's alright," Harry answered, feeling awkward, too. "I didn't want to wake you since you'd finally gotten to sleep."

There was a pause as their eyes danced around, looking anywhere but at each other.

"Did you sleep well at least?" Harry asked, wanting to say something to fill the silence.

"I think I did actually," Hermione admitted, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear and looking somewhat surprised as if she had just realized this.

"I guess I make a good pillow, then," Harry said with a nervous smile, hoping to ease whatever tension there was between them.

Hermione laughed lightly, and Harry relaxed.

"You should get some sleep now," Hermione told him, "I know how tired you were last night."

With as worn-out as he currently was, Harry didn't need to be told twice.

* * *

That evening, they found themselves standing alone in the room of the Hog's Head where the secret passage was located, waiting for someone to take them to Hogwarts. They had managed to slip stealthily into the closed pub in the evening just after darkness had fallen without much trouble.

Harry had no idea what they were going to face once they reached Hogwarts, but if Aberforth's solemn expression was any indication, it wouldn't be good. They had talked to the late headmaster's brother briefly before he left the room shaking his head.

Glancing at Hermione, he knew there was another reason he was worried. Harry knew she cared about Hogwarts and some of the people there a great deal, and he wasn't sure how she would react to what they might find.

He followed her gaze, which was focused on the portrait with two small shapes coming closer. As they became clearer, Harry noticed that it was once again Neville who would greet them.

The guy looked pretty similar to what Harry remembered, except maybe a little thinner and more tired. The grin that appeared on his face at their return wouldn't show it, though. Jumping down from the ledge, he addressed them.

"Hermione, Harry, good to see you're alright," his eyes moved between them several times before Hermione gave him a quick hug.

He held out his hand to Harry, "Heard rumors about some of the things you've been doing." Harry took his hand and shook, not used to the friendly welcome. "Some rubbish about you breaking into Gringott's and riding out on a bloody dragon."

The look of complete disbelief on Neville's face faded as Harry and Hermione shared a glance and hesitated.

"You can't be serious?!" he asked them, sounding thoroughly entertained.

"I suppose that is basically what happened," Hermione reluctantly admitted, not looking at Neville.

Neville laughed and congratulated them on a job well done, saying how the others would never believe it.

"Oh," Neville said, as if just now remembering something, "I passed McGonagall in the hallway the other day and she slipped me this. It was addressed to you," he said to Harry," so I guess it's yours? I need to go ask Aberforth something, so I'll be right back."

With that, Neville handed Harry the package and strode out of the room.

Harry opened the small package, surprised to find his father's cloak tightly crammed inside.

"How did she know this was mine?" Harry asked.

Hermione shook her head, not sure either.

"Maybe Dobby told her, at least that means he got here," she reasoned.

They stowed the cloak in Hermione's bag, and after a minute, Neville returned to the room.

Together, the three of them clambered into the secret passage behind the painting. When Hermione asked how things were at Hogwarts, the amicable atmosphere suddenly shifted.

"Not good," Neville said solemnly. "The Carrows have been especially cruel lately when they catch anyone. And with Snape as Headmaster, I doubt things are going to improve any time soon."

He frowned and continued, "Weird things have been happening, too. A few people have gone missing. We've looked, but we can't find them anywhere. We don't know if Snape had them locked up in a dungeon or what. Everyone keeps hoping they'll just turn up one day, but I think there's more to it."

Harry looked from Neville to Hermione, whose expression was tense but revealed little else.

"Is there anything we can do to help?" Harry asked.

"Not much more than you are already." Seeing that Harry didn't understand, he added, "Knowing you are alive and fighting gives them hope. For years there have been rumors, but no one knew if you were still around after sending You-Know-Who packing. Now there's a new story about you every week." Neville shot Harry a smile as he led them on, "You're pretty popular, Harry."

Harry grimaced, but didn't know how to respond.

Neville chuckled, but his serious expression quickly returned.

"We've been on the lookout for what you asked, but so far nothing's turned up. Luna had a few ideas, but…" he trailed off before finishing. "It's been tough getting around so we could check them out."

"That's alright, Neville," Hermione chimed in for the first time in a while. "We know the clues we left you with were rather vague."

They had reached the exit on the other side of the tunnel.

"The group's grown while you've been gone," Neville warned them, "you ready?"

Harry nodded once. Hermione did the same.

Neville opened the portrait and walked out onto the ledge in the room.

"I've brought you a present," he announced to whoever was there to hear him.

Harry nodded to Hermione and they walked out of the passage into the room. For the first few seconds, Harry's eyes had trouble adjusting from the very dim light of the tunnel to the well-lit room. It was bigger than it had been last time, and there were definitely more students living there. Hammocks were now hanging in several places and there were cots scattered around. The room was cluttered with belongings and there were colorful banners decorating the otherwise bare walls.

There was a group of over a dozen students, all with their eyes on them as they hopped off of the ledge with Neville. Most of them shouted out and cheered upon seeing who Neville had brought with him.

Following Hermione at a distance, Harry noticed her hug Luna before some of the students asked them questions about what they had been doing. During this, Harry hung back and gladly let Hermione handle the explanation. She did much better than he would have anyway; as he was sure she was much more tactful.

With all of that out of the way, the small crowd dispersed, leaving only Neville, Luna, and Ron.

"So," Neville spoke up first, "what brings you guys back to Hogwarts?"

"Well, we were looking for Dobby," Hermione answered, trying not to look upset. "Have you seen him?"

"No, he hasn't come by in a while," Luna told them. She didn't seem concerned, though.

Harry and Hermione shared a brief glance before Hermione continued speaking.

"We also wanted to see how everything was here, and help out if we could," Hermione answered.

"I don't see how you could help, really," Ron said, "unless you've got a way to find the ones who've gone missing."

"Neville mentioned that before," Hermione frowned as she spoke, "what happened?"

"Well, some of the disappearances are just rumors, but a few days ago, Colin snuck out to go to Gryffindor tower. We warned him that it was too dangerous to go that night, but he was worried about his brother, Dennis, so you can't blame him," Luna explained with a sympathetic expression.

"I certainly blame him," Ron put in. "He's not the sneakiest bloke, and going out at night? He should've waited for one of us to go with him."

"Why was he worried about him? And how did Colin get here?" Hermione asked.

"They've started checking everyone's blood status. We don't know what it means for muggle-borns, but it can't be good," Ron explained. "There's a rumor they might get kicked out. And Colin and Dennis have muggle parents."

"They can't do that!" Hermione said angrily.

"Unfortunately, as long as Snape is Headmaster, they can," Neville said with a dejected expression. "Colin got lucky- Ron ran into him one morning when he was out and brought him back here. It was right after they started checking people. But his brother wasn't with him. We don't know how long it is taking them to check everyone, but Colin was worried his brother might get caught."

"Yeah, so he went and got himself in trouble," Ron said, shaking his head. "I told him I'd go with him the next day to try to find Dennis."

"Anyway," Neville said, "when he didn't come back, a few of us went out looking for him before curfew, but so far…"

A bang interrupted their conversation, and Harry looked over to see a group of three boys surrounding a smoking object on a table. One of them, who had been charred a bit worse than the others, raised a hand in their direction.

"I see Seamus hasn't changed," Hermione commented as if random explosions were a common occurrence.

"Not an ounce," Neville answered with a mildly amused face.

There was a pause before Hermione asked, "Where is Ginny?"

"Oh," Luna answered, "she went to look for Colin and try to get information about what is going on outside of the hideout."

"She had better be back soon," Ron grumbled. "Once the curfew hits it's too dangerous to be out now."

"Is it that bad?" Hermione asked, looking disappointed. "I was really hoping we could go and see Professor McGonagall."

"You should wait 'til morning, at least," Neville suggested. "The rumor is people have been disappearing overnight. Either way, you'll have to be careful that no one sees you… And we don't even know where she is staying right now, since Snape is Headmaster," Neville continued. "We think she might be back to her old office, but we haven't had anyone check yet. I don't think they want us to know where to find her in case we try to plan something."

"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed suddenly, "I can find her!" She rummaged through her magic bag and quickly produced the Marauder's Map. "Maybe we can use this to find the missing students, too."

She briefly showed them the map and explained how it worked.

"Where'd you get something awesome like that?" Ron asked.

Hermione gave him a look.

"From your brothers, actually," she answered in a voice Harry thought sounded just a tiny bit smug. He couldn't help but smile a little, but no one seemed to notice.

"What?! From Fred and George?" Ron asked, clearly shocked. "How'd you get it from them?"

"I found them using it, and I told them it was too dangerous to keep something like that in case they lost it. In the hands of someone who wanted to sneak into Hogwarts, it could be extremely dangerous."

"There's no way they turned it in…" Ron said doubtfully.

"No, I turned it in," Hermione confirmed. "They gave it to me."

"How did you get them to do that?" he asked.

"Simple," Hermione told him. "I threatened to do the one thing I knew would get them to give up."

"And what's that?"

"Write to your mother," Hermione said with a small smirk.

After a minute, they found McGonagall's dot on the first floor (back in her old office, it seemed). However, Colin's name was nowhere to be seen.

"That's impossible," Hermione said, staring at the map with a frown, biting her lip as her eyes continued to scan the parchment.

"Maybe it's wrong?" Ron said with a shrug.

"No, Ron," Hermione answered impatiently, "the map is never wrong."

"Look," Luna interrupted, "there's Ginny." She pointed to a dot with the name Ginny Weasley on a different area of the first floor.

"What's she doing all the way down on the first floor?" Ron asked no one in particular.

They watched Ginny's dot walk down a corridor toward one of the many staircases in the castle. Another dot moved into the corridor further down and when Harry read the name, he felt a reflexive sense of dread: Draco Malfoy.

"Malfoy!" Ron said in an angry tone. "He better stay the hell away from my sister!"

The two dots stopped a good distance apart, having obviously noticed each other.

"What should we do? We can't let her get turned in by Malfoy!" Ron said, standing up and looking at them expectantly with a worried expression.

"We can try to get down there, but I doubt we'll have time…" Hermione said, sounding distressed.

"We've got to try," Neville said with certainty. "Ginny won't let them catch her without a fight," he told them confidently.

"You should use my cloak," Harry hastily added. Not missing a beat, Hermione pulled it out of her bag seconds later.

"Great idea, Harry," she told him. "Harry's invisibility cloak," she explained, seeing varying degrees of confusion on the others' faces.

"Harry and I will go and get Ginny," Hermione said. Noticing Ron about to protest, she added, "The cloak isn't big enough for four people- three would be a tight fit if we need to bring Ginny back- and we wanted to see Professor McGonagall anyway."

"She's got a point, Ron," Neville said. "Besides, if you find them, you might do something rash, mate."

Ron appeared as though he wanted to argue but couldn't.

"Be careful," Luna told them as they prepared to leave.

"Only twenty minutes to curfew," Neville cautioned in an anxious tone.

"We'll be alright," Hermione said.

She stepped closer to Harry and they threw the cloak around them, inching in tighter to make sure their feet stayed hidden when they walked. Harry noticed some of the others in the room look up as they exited the door.

Hermione lit her wand and checked the map for Ginny, who still seemed to be talking to Malfoy several floors below them. She scanned the stairs to guarantee that no one was in the area and led Harry to the Grand Staircase.

In spite of their situation, Harry found it difficult not to look around. Even in the dark, he could see the outlines of hundreds of portraits and paintings, and more staircases that he could count.

Suddenly, Harry felt the stairs begin to move beneath them and panicked. Instinctively, he grabbed onto Hermione, who laughed quietly at his reaction. She held onto the railing which she had been walking closer to in case the stairs decided to move, and helped stabilize Harry with the other. Eventually, the staircase locked back into place and Hermione quickly adjusted their route accordingly.

After descending numerous flights of stairs, which was made more difficult by their close proximity and confinement under the cloak, Hermione led them off the stairs and down a hallway.

They turned and were walking down a dimly lit corridor when Hermione stopped so suddenly that the cloak slipped off of them before Harry realized what had happened.

"They're gone," Hermione said in a tone of disbelief. She frantically searched the rest of the map for her friend's name. Apparently, she had lost all concern for the fact that she was standing in the middle of a corridor in plain sight herself.

Harry rushed back to her, covering them with the cloak again.

"What do you mean 'they're gone'?" Harry asked in a whisper, his eyes checking their surroundings to make sure that they were still alone.

"They were on the first floor, in that corridor, right there, just a minute ago," Hermione said in a hurried, anxious tone." And now I can't find either of their names anywhere!"

"Hermione, you've got to quiet down before you get us caught," Harry told her in a firm, but gentle tone. "Let's go in a classroom or something and we can check the map over again," he suggested.

"Harry, they aren't on there!" Hermione said, clearly frustrated. He was glad that she had lower her voice to a whisper, at least.

"Where are we now?" he asked her. He was still looking around nervously, expecting to see someone in a black cloak appear out of a hallway or closed door without warning.

"On the second floor," Hermione answered. "There's a staircase just over there that would've taken us to where Ginny was."

"Didn't you say Professor McGonagall is on the first floor?" Harry asked. When Hermione nodded, Harry suggested, "Then why don't we see if we can find her. We can tell her about Ginny and check the map again, just in case, in there."

Harry had a bad feeling about whatever happened to Ginny, and he honestly wasn't sure what to think of Draco after the last time they saw each other, when Malfoy had let them escape for some reason.

Harry knew he and Hermione had gotten incredibly lucky that time, but he still didn't know if Dobby was alright. Pushing these thoughts out of his mind, Harry tried to focus on their current situation.

"Fine," Hermione reluctantly agreed. Looking at her expression, he could tell she didn't want to leave Ginny. Wanting to put her at ease as much as he could for the moment, Harry began speaking quickly.

"Look," he said, "I know Malfoy let us go last time, but I still don't trust him. We aren't giving up. Something doesn't feel right about this, I know. We will do whatever we can to find Ginny, I promise, but right now, we need to get out of the middle of the hallway before someone comes along and we get ourselves caught."

When Harry finally stopped to breathe, he noticed Hermione was looking at him with a slightly amused smile.

"Thank you," she said, touching Harry's arm and giving it an affectionate squeeze, before slipping her hand into his and leading him to Professor McGonagall's office.


	28. Those Not Worthy

Alright, here's the next one. Thanks to everyone supporting the story! I really appreciate all of the reviews.

I hope you guys like where I'm going with this part. To me, it seemed fitting and like a good way to bring some things together- you'll see. Hope you all like it!

Also: I checked over how the chapters were coming up on the site, and I realized that the page breaks I was using were not showing up. I really thought I had checked this, but I am going back and fixing it by adding lines in all the other chapters now. Sorry if the sudden scene transitions threw anyone off before.

* * *

**Chapter 28: Those Not Worthy**

When they reached the previous Headmistress's office, they were mildly surprised to find that no one was there.

"She might be out checking the halls since it's just about curfew," Hermione explained quietly.

Harry looked around the room with interest. There were a few small bookshelves and one larger one against the back wall of the room behind a neatly arranged desk. Before he had a chance to look around any further, Harry heard footsteps coming from somewhere down the hall.

He glanced at Hermione, who looked uncertain, and pulled her over against the wall next to the doorway, glad that they had left the cloak on. Harry was standing mostly behind Hermione under the cloak with his eyes staring hard at the doorway as the noise grew louder.

A man in a dark robe appeared in the doorway without warning. Harry tried to discern his features, and was startled to find that he recognized him from his time at the Malfoys. He looked their way with cold, searching eyes, and the name came to him- Amycus Carrow.

Feeling Hermione tense in front of him, Harry lightly put a hand on her arm in an attempt to calm her.

Despite the empty room, the man didn't seem satisfied. He walked in, his eyes narrowing as he looked around suspiciously.

Wanting to get as far away from the Death Eater as possible, Harry gently placed his other hand on Hermione's waist and pulled her with him as he slowly backed up toward the corner of the room.

There was a noise somewhere down the corridor, and the man paused, looking toward it, before slipping quickly from the office and out of sight.

Harry and Hermione both let out a relieved breath, but otherwise stayed quiet. After a few seconds, Harry became aware of just how close they were standing. Feeling his face heat up, he made to slowly take his hands off her, but the sound of footsteps stopped him in his tracks. They tensed again, waiting.

This time, it was Professor McGonagall who entered the room, and Harry could almost feel the tension leave Hermione's body. The professor shut the door to her office and walked over to the desk.

"Professor McGonagall," Hermione spoke quietly, trying not to startle with woman with mild success.

She flinched and turned around as Hermione revealed herself from under the cloak.

"Miss Granger," McGonagall said, astounded, "what are you doing here?"

Hermione walked forward and the cloak slipped off Harry, too.

"We," at this McGonagall's eyes flicked to Harry briefly, "came here to check on Dobby- he was hurt badly helping us with something- and we wanted to see what was going on at Hogwarts and if we could do anything to help."

"Good to see you again, Mr. Potter," McGonagall addressed him first, nodding in his direction. "Unfortunately, right now, Hogwarts is not safe," she told them seriously.

"Neville told us there is a rumor about people disappearing…" Hermione brought up hesitantly.

Harry's thoughts went back to Ginny and Malfoy.

"Yes," the older witch said cautiously after a few moments; it seemed like she was debating how much to reveal to them. "There have been several students reported missing in the last few weeks."

"Is there anything else you can tell us?" Hermione asked.

"They have all been muggle-borns," McGonagall told her, regret evident in her eyes. "Since they started going around trying to check everyone's blood status, I have been doing what I can to point students I thought would be in danger in the right direction, but… it is no longer safe here."

"If we stay here for a little while, we might be able to help out," Hermione said. Remembering other things they wanted to bring up, she looked over at Harry, not sure how much information he would be alright with her sharing.

"We've got a map," Harry said, wanting to get help for Hermione's friend if he could, "that shows us where everyone is in the school at that exact moment. We can show you."

Taking the lead, Hermione brought out the map, explaining the situation as she did so.

"Before we came to see you, we were going to get Ginny. She left the hideout to go and look for Colin, but she hadn't come back. We checked and found her on the map, just there," Hermione, who now had the map out, pointed to the spot where they had seen Ginny Weasley's name, "and we were going to go and get her, but then when I checked the map a minute later, she was gone, and I couldn't find her name anywhere."

"I'm afraid I can't offer you an explanation," the woman told them. "If the map is as accurate as you say, then I'm not sure what could have happened. It is possible that there is another hidden room like the Room of Requirement that was not discovered at the time of the map. That might explain the missing students," Professor McGonagall reasoned.

"And while I appreciate your offer to help, I must insist that you do not stay here longer than absolutely necessary."

"I understand, Professor," Hermione answered, "but while we're here I would like to at least try to do some good."

"I'm sure you will," McGonagall answered with a small smile.

"Have you heard anything about Dobby?" Harry asked after a moment.

"Yes, I have. Madame Pomphrey said she found him the other night outside the hospital wing alone. He was severely injured when she took him in, but the last time I heard from her, she is hopeful that he might pull through."

"That's good to hear," Hermione said, focusing on the positive.

"I would ask for an explanation, but the two of you should really be going. It is already past curfew, and it isn't safe to be out this time of night."

They nodded and Professor McGonagall escorted them to her door.

* * *

Harry suddenly jumped as a shiver ran through his body.

"Did you hear that?" Harry asked quietly as they walked along under the cloak. Hermione could hear the panic evident in his voice.

"Hear what?" Hermione asked, turning her head to look at him.

"I don't know…" Harry answered uncertainly, "I thought I heard a voice or something." His eyes were darting around the corridor, but he couldn't see anything.

Hermione frowned next to him and opened the map.

They checked it twice, but there was no one close to their location.

* * *

After reluctantly agreeing that it would be safest to just return to the Room of Requirement for the night, Harry and Hermione went back and told the others what had happened. The Room had added two cots off to one side for them, apart from the others, which Harry was thankful for.

Once they said 'goodnight', it wasn't too long before Hermione fell asleep. Harry, however, couldn't quite relax. In a room of so many strangers, he didn't trust letting himself fall asleep. How easy would it be for one of the others to turn on them in the night? What if someone was an imposter?

But eventually, fatigue overrode his fears and Harry fell into a restless sleep.

_A dark, cloaked figure stalks down a hallway. The tip of the wand in his hand is dimly lit- this is the only source of light. He is clearly searching for something or someone._

"_Kill… Time to kill…" his voice is a quiet whisper, but his words and intentions are clear. He intends to kill whoever he finds._

"_Kill…"_

Harry's eyes opened and he felt a shiver up his spine as the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. _Weird dream._

Before he had time to think about it any further, sleep overtook him again.

* * *

The next morning found them back in the same area on the first floor, while most of the other students were having breakfast before classes. With the cover of the cloak, they thought it would be safe as long as they got back to the Room before everyone was finished breakfast.

There was nothing near them on the map, but Harry swore he heard something again.

"Come on, I know I heard something," he insisted urgently, grabbing her hand. "It was this way."

"Harry!" Hermione whispered loudly in his ear as he pulled her along.

They continued in the direction for a while, but there was nothing there.

They rounded another corner, with Harry staring at the ground lost in frustration and thought. Hermione was right on his heels.

Suddenly, she grabbed his arm with her other hand to stop him. He glanced over at her, confused. When he noticed the stunned look on her face, he followed her line of vision.

There, on the wall, was a message written in what appeared to be blood…

_'Those not worthy will find their place in the Chamber of Secrets.'_

For a minute, they stood there, frozen in shock.

"Hermione, what is the Chamber of Secrets?" Harry asked, looking at the brilliant witch next to him with a strong sense of dread.

She stood there in silence, her eyes glued to the blood-red words.

Hearing the noise of approaching voices, Harry took hold of Hermione led her into a side corridor that didn't seem like it was used often.

"Hermione, what is the Chamber of Secrets?" Harry asked again, trying to get her to look at him.

"It isn't supposed to exist- nearly every Headmaster has looked for it- it's supposed to just be a legend. But if it is real…" her face looked a bit pale, "this is very bad."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"I came across something about it in the library. Salazar Slytherin, the founder of Slytherin house, didn't agree with the other three that muggle-borns should be allowed into Hogwarts. The legend says that he created a chamber, without the knowledge of the other founders, which would house a terrible monster. It was said that only Slytherin himself, or one of his heirs, could control the beast. Once an heir came to the school, they would be able to open the chamber and release the monster, using it to purge the school of all muggle-borns," Hermione explained.

Harry watched her sad eyes as she told him the legend and when she was done, he couldn't hold her gaze.

The idea of muggle-borns being rounded up and killed by some monster out of prejudice made Harry tense in anger.

But then memories of when he first met Hermione came back to him. He had called her a Mudblood; he had used the filthy slur on her. Guilt and shame quickly replaced most of the anger he felt. What right did he have to be furious at the thought of someone killing muggle-borns when he had treated them badly, too? He had never enjoyed it, but after being taught by the Death Eaters, at least part of him had thought their biases might be true.

"Harry?" Hermione quietly spoke him name.

He met her eyes again. She had seen the drastic change of emotions play across his face and gave him a questioning look.

"I'm just…" he looked away again, unable to face her as he thought of his past, "…so sorry about how I treated you, at first."

"You mean how you shared your food with me? Or tied my bonds loose before Bellatrix interrogated me?" At his surprised glance, she confirmed, "Yes, I realized that you had tied it loose. You would have to be either extremely clumsy or extremely careless for it to have been that easy to get my hands free if it was an accident," she told him, "and neither of those seem to be true."

Harry looked away uncomfortably, not sure what to say.

"Not to mention the fact that you saved my life," she continued. "All you knew about me then was that I was muggle-born, Harry. You aren't like them."

"How do you always do that?" Harry asked suddenly with a perplexed face, having wondered the question for quite some time. "How do you always just seem to… know what I'm thinking?"

Hermione smiled but said nothing, looking back toward the hallway.

"We should get going before everyone leaves the Great Hall to go to their classes. But tonight we should try to come back after curfew; we need to talk to Professor McGonagall about this."

Harry simply nodded. He knew they would be talking about this more once they got back to the Room of Requirement safely.

* * *

All day, there was buzz about the Chamber, the legend, who could've opened it and how. Several of the students were convinced that it couldn't be real, knowing that Dumbledore himself had searched for the hidden area of Hogwarts and whatever beast lie within.

Finally, he and Hermione were left alone in the corner by their cots.

"So, what do you think?" Harry asked her quietly.

"I don't know," Hermione admitted, distractedly. Harry could tell she was worried. "It seems unlikely that there would be a part of Hogwarts that no one has been able to find, especially because so many of the Headmasters have looked for it specifically. But if it does exist, and somehow only heirs of Slytherin can access it, then I just don't know…"

"It could be Malfoy," Harry suggested, "the heir. We saw him right around where Ginny was before they both just disappeared. Maybe if there is a Chamber, it's not on the map because it's never been found."

"Maybe…" Hermione said, but she looked skeptical, "but do you really think it would be Malfoy? He did let us go… and I'm not sure if he would be the heir of Slytherin."

"Hermione, it definitely could be him," Harry told her. "I know he let us go, but that doesn't mean he isn't up to anything. Didn't he say something about having a job to do at Hogwarts? Then Bellatrix taunted him because he failed in his mission before."

"He did say something like that, but he might have just been bluffing. We don't even know if the Chamber of Secrets is real," Hermione pointed out.

Still suspicious of Malfoy and not having anything better to do, Harry took out the Marauder's Map. He settled onto his cot with it spread out before him, determined to follow around Malfoy's name. At least then it might feel like he was doing something useful.

Hermione pulled out a book to read, sitting on her own cot.

After watching Draco's dot do nothing out of the ordinary for what seemed like hours, Harry's eyes were glazed over. He was trying to keep himself awake, but it was incredibly boring waiting for something that may not even happen. Malfoy's dot had been in the dungeons for a while now, not even moving.

"Harry, do you think we should go and see Professor McGonagall soon?" Hermione asked. "It's almost curfew."

Harry blinked, looking over at her after jumping a bit when she said his name, being him out of his stupor.

"Oh, err, sure," he answered, "I guess we should."

Hermione nodded and put her book away, standing up from her cot.

Stretching out his arms and legs, Harry followed her example.

* * *

A quarter of an hour later, they were standing in Professor McGonagall's office, listening to the concerned witch tell them that she didn't know what to make of the message. She told them it could very well be a student who believed in pureblood supremacy simply trying to scare the muggle-borns. They discussed it further, but found that the rightful Headmistress didn't know much more about the Chamber of Secrets than they did.

"Is it alright if I look through one of your books for a minute?" Hermione asked. "I remember seeing something I wanted to read about in here before the holidays."

Professor McGonagall told her that it was fine, and Hermione walked over to one of the shelves farther into the room.

Harry, who was left with the professor, wasn't sure what to say.

"You have quite a story, Mr. Potter," she commented. "It's a wonder you are here with us today. I am sorry that we were unable to find you… I never thought you should have been left with those muggles in the first place."

There was a note of contempt in her voice that Harry noticed, and some of his discomfort eased.

"Then to find out how you were stolen and raised… I am surprised you are here without the Mark on your arm."

Without really understanding why, Harry felt as though he could trust the older witch, perhaps because Hermione seemed to respect her and rely on her when she needed advice.

"I wish you could have come to Hogwarts," she said with a thin smile, "it would have been interesting to see which house you were sorted into."

"I honestly think he would've been in Gryffindor," Hermione remarked as she walked to another shelf. Apparently she had heard at least part of their conversation as she crossed the room, passing by them.

Professor McGonagall looked him over, as if appraising whether or not he would have been a good addition to her house. Harry shifted and looked away self-consciously.

"I think you would have made a fine Gryffindor," she eventually told him. "However, I have a feeling you would have gotten yourself into trouble a fair amount, too."

Harry smiled awkwardly, realizing that she was partly making fun of him, and thinking she was probably not wrong.

"It's not like I look for trouble," Harry weakly defended, "it just seems to find me." After a moment's thought, he added, "I really would like to know which house I would have been in, though…"

He knew his parents had been in Gryffindor, and Sirius and Remus, and Hermione and most of her friends were in Gryffindor… What if he wasn't? He had heard bad things about Slytherin- "good" things he'd overheard from the others, mostly Malfoy, which he considered bad.

He didn't feel strongly about either of the other two houses; he doubted he would've been in Ravenclaw- he wasn't really that smart- and he wasn't sure what he thought of Hufflepuff. Frowning, he tried to remember what Hufflepuff stood for… was it loyalty?

Seeing how interested Harry seemed, Professor McGonagall offered to let him see the Sorting Hat.

Hermione, who had just walked back over to them after scanning through several books, brightened at the idea.

"I think that's a great idea," she said.

Harry had a suspicion that she might be supporting the idea as much for her own curiosity as his.

McGonagall walked over to the bookcase behind her desk and did something Harry couldn't see. Suddenly, the bookcase moved and she stepped back as it slowly swung forward. She disappeared into the room on the other side before returning with what looked like a patched, old witch's hat.

The professor began speaking again, but Harry only caught a few of the words before he heard something that completely took his attention.

"_Kill…_"

Harry's eyes widened. The voice was weak, as if it was some distance away, but it was definitely there.

He looked at the two witches, who were conversing normally as if they hadn't heard anything.

"_I smell blood_…"

A shiver rippled through Harry as he heard the words.

"Hermione," Harry said, not caring anymore about interrupting them, "did you hear that?"

The puzzled look he got in response told him that she hadn't.

"Hear what, Harry?"

"_Time to kill…_"

"That voice," Harry said, hearing his own voice sound panicked, "it- it's going to kill."

Professor McGonagall wore a startled expression, and Hermione looked troubled.

"What voice?" Hermione asked slowly. "There was no voice, Harry…" Her eyes shifted to McGonagall to confirm that she hadn't heard it, either.

"Yes," Harry answered quickly, "yes, there was. It wasn't loud, but it was definitely there. It said something about blood and killing."

Hermione and her professor shared a concerned look.

"Maybe we should just go," Hermione suggested.

"Yes, that might be for the best," the older witch agreed. She looked between them for a moment, debating, before she said, "Mr. Potter, I will let you borrow the Sorting Hat for now. Feel try to try it on when you are ready. But be sure to either return it to me or leave it with a trust-worthy Gryffindor."

Harry nodded, thanking her and taking the hat gently.

"I will make sure it gets back to you, Professor," Hermione promised.

"Be careful, and if you need anything," she said, looking at Hermione, "you know where to find me. My door is always open."

After thanking Professor McGonagall again, they slipped the cloak back on and moved out into the hallway. They made it back to the room without incident and once they got to their cots, Harry checked the map for Malfoy again: his name wasn't there. He showed Hermione and they decided to watch his name tomorrow after curfew.

For a while that night, Harry sat holding the Sorting Hat, thinking about what it might say. Hermione had told him before that it spoke to the person once they put it on and gave its opinion on which house it felt they belonged. Deciding that he felt too tired and nervous to try the hat on then, Harry hid it under the pillow on his cot and went to sleep.


	29. Discovery

Wow, chapter 29... this story is so much longer and so much more work than I thought it would be haha. I hope you guys are glad it isn't over yet. It has been more fun to write than I expected.

Also, I wanted to point this out in case anyone noticed- in this story, I have the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets in the first floor bathroom. I checked in the books and the second book states that Myrtle's bathroom is on the first floor, but I think in the movies it might say the second floor instead so I just wanted to clear that up now. Thanks!

* * *

**Chapter 29: Discovery**

The next day, Harry somehow found himself signed up for a mission to sneak out of the Room of Requirement during the day, with Neville, to try to bring back a few muggle-born underclassmen. Hermione and Luna were discussing theories on what might be going on at Hogwarts with Ron before he went out to look for his sister.

Harry was taking point in his invisibility cloak, consulting the map for directions, with Neville trailing close behind, waiting in passages, empty doorways, or closets until Harry gave the go-ahead. They picked a time of day when Neville knew that most students had classes to avoid traffic in the halls.

Once they located the student, who was still in class when they got to him, they set up in position, waiting. They switched so that now Neville wore the cloak and Harry hid in a nearby safe place Neville showed him. Once Harry was safely hidden, Neville flanked the classroom door. As the student walked out of the classroom, his plan was to use a spell to break his bag, causing his items to fall. Then, while the student was left to pick everything up, Neville would grab him and pull him under the cloak, explaining the situation quickly.

If the student made it past Neville without him being able to grab them, Harry was supposed to discretely try to stall him again somehow. He wasn't completely sure how he was going to do that, so he hoped Neville wouldn't need back-up.

They did this three times, moving around the castle while most students had class and then taking them when class let out. Of the three students, one decided not to come to the hideout yet- he wanted to remain in classes and make sure his girlfriend stayed safe. Neville respected his decision, and the boy agreed to feed them information whenever he could.

After spending most of the day with him, Harry thought that Neville seemed like an alright guy. He seemed to really care about the other students and want to do whatever he could to help them, especially the younger ones. To Harry, Neville appeared humble, and a bit unsure of himself, which went along with what Hermione had said about him before. Despite this, Harry felt he could see why Neville was in Gryffindor.

"Thanks for your help today, Harry," Neville said as they entered the Room of Requirement. "I'd never have been able to do that so easily without your cloak and your help."

"Sure, no problem," Harry told him, and they shared a brief smile.

* * *

A few hours later, Harry and Hermione were sitting together on his cot, their backs against the wall of the room with the map opened in front of them. They were watching Draco's dot as they talked quietly.

Ron, who had returned disgruntled after having no luck finding Ginny, was sitting with Luna and Neville on the other side of the room. There were several other groups scattered around the hideout, and Harry was glad that no one seemed to mind letting them be for now.

"Hey, he's going somewhere!" Hermione suddenly whispered, pointing to the map and sounding somewhere between nervous and excited.

Harry said nothing, but focused his eyes unblinkingly on Draco's name. They watched as he left the dungeons. It was obvious from his movements that he did not want to be followed and was being extremely careful not to be seen. When he reached the first floor, he hid for a minute before walking down another hallway.

There, to their surprise, Draco entered the girls' bathroom. Less than a minute later, his name simply vanished from the spot.

"His name just disappeared! He was definitely in the girls' bathroom on the first floor!" Hermione whispered unnecessarily to Harry.

"Then that's where we are going," Harry said decisively.

Hermione nodded, and they stood up to get ready.

Harry looked at the Sorting Hat before deciding that it would be dangerous to leave it there with a group of strangers. He wasn't sure he could trust them. Grabbing it, he reached over and thrust it into Hermione's bag.

As they left the hideout, Harry tried to steel himself for whatever they might find.

* * *

"Do you think he flushed himself down a toilet?" Harry asked, making a face. "That's how most of the workers get into the Ministry of Magic, right?"

They had quickly made it to the girls' bathroom and were now inspecting it to try to figure out where Malfoy had gone.

"I'm sure one of the Headmasters would have checked that before," Hermione told him.

"Who are you?"

The ghost of a girl floated out of one of the bathroom stalls.

"Girls hardly ever come in here," she said, eyeing Hermione. "Oh, and who are _you_?" she asked Harry, giving him a playful smile and a wink. "I haven't seen you in here before."

Harry glanced at Hermione, an alarmed expression on his face.

"Did someone else come in here recently?" Hermione asked, ignoring the ghost's questions.

"Oh, of course, don't _talk_ to Myrtle- she's only good for getting information," she snapped. "No one ever comes to talk to moping, crying, Moaning Myrtle."

Harry and Hermione exchanged an uncomfortable glance, and Hermione subtly gestured to Harry in a way that said 'well, do something'.

Harry frowned at her.

Glancing at the ghost, Myrtle, and seeing that she was still talking and not really paying attention to them, Hermione leaned over to Harry.

"She's seems more interested in you than me," she whispered quickly. "Just try to talk to her," Hermione suggested.

"Err, so your name is Myrtle?" Harry asked.

"Yes," she stopped whining to answer. "You were actually listening?"

"O-of course," Harry said uncertainly, "who wouldn't, um, want to listen to you?"

She floated closer to Harry and he took a half-step back.

"Are you flirting with me?" she asked, giving him a suggestive look. "You are _much_ nicer than the other boy who comes in here. What's your name?"

"U-umm," Harry stammered, still edging away from Myrtle.

"Other boy," Hermione chimed in. "There was another boy in here?" she asked, trying to sound surprised and only mildly interested. "But isn't this a girls' bathroom?"

Myrtle, who was now pretending to snuggle against a clearly uncomfortable Harry, turned her attention toward Hermione. She scowled at the living witch skeptically.

"Who are you, his girlfriend?" she asked in an annoyed tone.

"Harry," he interrupted, not liking the looks Myrtle and Hermione were giving each other. "My name is Harry."

This effectively won him back the ghost girl's attention, and she turned to look at him more closely.

"Well, Harry, it is so nice to meet you," Myrtle said in a sickeningly sweet voice. "I live here in this bathroom, and I hardly ever have any visitors… but you are welcome to come here any time you want."

Her smile gave Harry the creeps.

"Uh, thanks, Myrtle," Harry told her, although all he wanted to do was get as far from her as possible. "So, you said there was another guy who visited you," he started, trying to think on his feet and really wanting to figure out where Malfoy had gone before even more time passed. "Do you know who it was or where he went?" Harry asked, hoping he sounded casually interested.

"I don't know his name," she answered, "but he started coming in my bathroom a few weeks ago. "I came out of my stall one time to ask what he was doing, but he was gone."

"Do you know where he went?" Harry asked, now obviously curious.

"No," Myrtle said, "but he comes back almost every night. He goes over and stands by the sinks. I try to stay away from him. I don't think he is very nice," she explained. "Not like you, Harry."

An awkward laugh left Harry's lips as he tried to figure out what else to say.

"Harry, look at this," Hermione said from behind him. She was leaning over looking at a sink. "There's a snake on the faucet of this sink."

Harry walked over to where she was standing, in front of one of the sinks which were arranged in a circle in the center of the bathroom. Looking closer, there was indeed a small snake on the faucet of one of the sinks.

"Slytherin's symbol is a snake," Hermione explained needlessly.

"This must be it," Harry said. "But where is the entrance? And how do you get in the chamber?"

Myrtle was now just floating behind them, looking interested, though much less so than she had been in Harry.

Hermione took out her wand and went to work, but after several minutes, still nothing had happened.

"Come on, open!" Harry said in frustration. "We need to get into the Chamber of Secrets," Harry angrily said to the sink. "Open," he repeated.

He looked at the snake symbol again, wondering if there was some clue he was missing. For a moment, the snake almost seemed alive as his green eyes focused on it.

"Open," he whispered again, concentrating on trying to think of how it might work.

Suddenly, there was a loud sound near them and Harry leapt back. The sinks rumbled and slowly moved outward from the center. The one he had been inspecting moved and sunk into a hole which had opened in the floor of the bathroom.

Harry stood frozen, staring at the empty spot where the sink had been, which now led to a decently-sized hole in the floor of the bathroom where the circular cluster of sinks had been.

"Harry, how did you do that?" Hermione asked, looking at him with wide eyes and a troubled expression.

"Do what?" he asked.

"You- well, you sort of hissed at the sink," Hermione explained. "Can you speak Parseltongue?" she asked.

"Can I do what?"

"Speak Parseltongue," Hermione repeated, "snake language. Some witches and wizards can speak to snakes, but it's really rare."

"I didn't hiss," Harry protested, confused as to why she was saying he had.

"Harry, I was right here; I heard you," Hermione insisted. "You spoke in a hissing voice and then the sinks started moving."

"Well, I don't know what you heard Hermione, but as far as I know, I just said 'open'… in normal, human words," Harry said.

Hermione sighed.

"I know what I heard, but we can talk about this later. Right now we have more important things to worry about," she said.

An uneasy silence settled around them, and Myrtle chose not to interrupt.

"It looks like a giant pipe," Hermione said after a minute.

"Yeah, it does," Harry agreed, scanning the entrance with his eyes.

After a stretch of silence, Harry spoke again.

"Malfoy must be down there."

"Ginny and the other students who disappeared could be, too," Hermione added anxiously.

"Then we have to go down there and find out," Harry said, remembering his promise to Hermione to try to help her friend.

"You're right," Hermione confirmed, "but… we have no idea what we'll find down there."

"I know."

Harry looked down, thinking and considering the possibilities.

"Why don't you go and get McGonagall?" Harry suggested. "I'll go down there and try to-"

"Forget it!" Hermione cut him off, realizing where this was going. "There is no way I am letting you go down there by yourself. If there is some sort of monster in the Chamber you can't just go and fight it by yourself!"

"Myrtle can go and get Professor McGonagall," Hermione suggested, "but I am going with you."

"Oh, I can just go and do that, can I?" Myrtle asked in a snooty tone.

"Myrtle," Harry tried to appeal to her in what he hoped was a charismatic, pleading voice, "please, we really need your help. Could you go and get McGonagall for us? Getting back-up or not could be the difference between life and death."

Myrtle considered this before settling for a nod and saying, "But, if something does happen to you down there, Harry, you are welcome to share my toilet."

A shaky 'thank you' was all Harry could manage in response to the ridiculous offer. Apparently Myrtle seemed to think it was a spectacular proposal as she smiled at him widely.

"Let's go," Harry said, looking to Hermione. "I'll go first," he stated.

"No," she took his hand and laced their fingers together tightly, "together."

So together they walked to the edge of large hole. Looking down, all Harry could see was darkness, meaning he had no idea how far of a drop it would be before they hit the bottom.

He took out his free hand and muttered, "Lumos."

"Ready?" Hermione asked him.

He could feel his palms sweating and his heart rate picking up, tightening his grip on Hermione's hand.

He nodded.

And together, they jumped into the darkness.

Suddenly they were falling fast, with no idea what to expect.


	30. The Horror Within

Here's the next chapter! Don't hate me for this one- it's going to be rough. I hope you like how it turned out. Thank you so much to everyone reading and/or reviewing!

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**Chapter 30: The Horror Within**

The slope of the tunnel slowly changed and Harry felt himself sliding along as Hermione was pressed against his side. His eyes couldn't focus due to the alarming pace at which they were racing down the pipe. Without warning, the slide ended and they shot out of the tube, landing with a series of crunches.

Pushing himself up and readjusting his glasses, Harry reached over to help Hermione up. The floor of the small cavern seemed to be completely covered in tiny skeletons.

Hermione made a noise of disgust as she noticed.

"They look like rodent bones," she whispered.

"What sort of monster would get its fill on mice and rats?" Harry asked.

After sharing a concerned but confused glance, they exited the area into a large tunnel. There seemed to be pipes and tunnels all connecting to the bigger one that they had first come to. The gray, stone walls looked slick and the whole area felt damp.

"We must be really far under Hogwarts," Harry whispered.

"I think we might be underneath the Black Lake," Hermione commented, looking around cautiously.

Following what they guessed was the main route they eventually came to a wall with two snakes decorating it. Although it looked like a dead end, Harry got the strong sense that it wasn't.

"This is it," he said quietly. "This is the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets."

Harry looked over at Hermione and her eyes quickly found him. After a few moments of silence, he broke her gaze.

"How do we open it?" he asked.

"Speak in Parseltongue again," Hermione suggested suddenly.

"I don't-" Harry began, but Hermione immediately interrupted, seeing the look on his face.

"Just look at the snakes on the wall. Focus on them like you did with the snake on the sink," she instructed.

Harry shot her a skeptical look, realizing that even she didn't sound sure of her idea, but did as she asked.

He narrowed his focus to one of the serpents. It really did look quite realistic, with bright emerald eyes.

"Open," he said, feeling slightly ridiculous. This time, since he was more aware of it, he noticed that his voice came out strange and sounding similar to a hiss.

To his surprise, it seemed to work.

The wall rumbled and then split in the middle and the two halves slid apart. Harry and Hermione shared a look and gripped their wands tighter. Facing the entrance and taking a breath in unison, they walked into the lair countless others had searched for, the Chamber of Secrets.

They entered a large, dimly lit room. Tall, stone pillars adorned with snakes rose higher than Harry could see. The whole chamber had an eerie, green glow, and shadows were cast along the floor and walls.

Harry's eyes quickly scanned the chamber, searching for any sign of movement. Across the area, he saw a figure standing in front of some sort of enormous statue. Unable to tell who it was but realizing that they must have noticed their entrance, Harry ran forward, wand ready.

"No!"

Harry recognized Draco Malfoy just after hearing him shout.

"Malfoy!" Harry called out, stopping several feet from the young Death Eater. "What have you done?" he asked in horror, noticing that Draco was not the only one in the chamber.

He heard Hermione gasp.

"Ginny!" she yelled, rushing to her friend's side. Ginny was lying on the floor, her red hair surrounding her face, in stark contrast to the dark and gloomy floor of the chamber.

Harry kept his wand pointed at Draco.

"Relax," Malfoy breathed out, sounding anything but relaxed, "she's only knocked out."

Hermione's eyes looked up at Draco, blazing angrily.

"What did you do to her?" she demanded fiercely. "Why did you take her here?"

"She ran into me, and I couldn't let her run and tell a teacher what I was doing," Malfoy hurriedly explained. "You shouldn't be here."

Draco looked like a mess; he was covered in sweat, with his white dress shirt clinging to him in some places and his breath uneven. He looked like a muggle who had seen a ghost.

A noise startled Harry, and his eyes found a small book on the floor of the Chamber with a black cover. The pages were flipping as if a strong wind was blowing through the dim, underground lair.

"N-no," Draco said, his eyes wide with panic. He was slowly backing away from the book as if it was going to attack him.

"Potter, the monster," Malfoy panted, turning to look at Harry with a wild look in his eyes, "it's a basilisk. Don't look it in the eyes, it- ugh!"

Draco suddenly stopped speaking and looked as though he had been punched in the gut. The fear slowly drained from his features. Hermione helped Ginny up and away from Malfoy; Harry guessed that she must have revived her friend while he was focused on the young Death Eater.

"Ginny, go and get help," Hermione instructed quickly. "Follow the main tunnel- it will lead you to a large slope that ends up in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. She was supposed to be going to get McGonagall."

"No, Hermione-" Ginny started to protest.

"Ginny, please, go! We might need more help!" Hermione said.

"Alright," her friend relented. "Be careful," she said to them before turning and heading toward the exit of the Chamber as fast as she could after just waking up from unconsciousness.

Draco now looked like he was in a trance; his eyes were glazed over and he was posture was stiff and awkward. He turned toward the large statue in the Chamber and raised a hand.

"Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four," Malfoy said in a voice that sounded entirely different than his own.

"Parseltongue!" Hermione whispered next to him, her surprise evident.

The sound of stone sliding against stone reached their ears for several seconds, and they watched as the mouth of the statue opened.

"Don't look at it," Harry whispered hurriedly. "Malfoy said not to look it in the eyes."

"What are we supposed to do, then?" Hermione asked, forcing herself to turn her head away.

"Harry Potter," the possessed Draco spoke, "I never imagined I would find you here, like this, but it will be my pleasure to show the power of the heir of Slytherin!"

With their eyes averted, they tried to rely on their ears. They heard something hit the ground back toward the statue.

"Come on," Harry said, grabbing Hermione's hand. "We need to put some distance between us and that thing."

Together, they dashed back toward the entrance of the Chamber.

"Kill them," Harry heard the cold voice command in Parseltongue through Draco's body. "Get the girl first, if you can," he said.

Harry felt anger flare up in him.

_Why would he tell it to go for Hermione first? It's me he really wants._

"Do you know anything about basilisks?" Harry asked breathlessly. "Malfoy said that's what it was, before he got possessed.

"A basilisk!" Hermione all but shrieked. "That explains why the heir of Slytherin can control it- it's a snake!"

"Not the time, Hermione," Harry told her through gritted teeth, pulling her behind a pillar as he heard the snake gaining on them.

"Do you know how to kill it?" Harry asked.

The basilisk hit part of the pillar they had dodged behind, and Harry heard stone crashing and raining down onto the floor of the Chamber. Quickly, he pulled Hermione further away.

"Umm…" Hermione anxiously tried to remember what she had read about the beast before. "Oh! Roosters! The cry of a rooster is fatal to it!"

"Wonderful," Harry responded without enthusiasm, "where do you expect us to find a rooster?"

Harry heard a shout from the direction of Malfoy and the book. Thinking on his feet, he turned them back toward Draco.

A loud noise behind them told him that the beast was still following them. Thankfully, it wasn't very agile and couldn't keep up with their quick turns. But Harry knew it wouldn't last.

He looked toward Malfoy. The Slytherin was knelt down, supporting himself on one knee with a hand on the ground, panting. Above the book, the faint outline of a young man was glowing, slowly taking shape.

Hermione shot a spell behind them, daring to glance back enough to guess where to aim, and brought down two pillars on top of the basilisk. Harry knew instinctively that it wasn't dead, but he hoped that would slow it down as he reached Draco's side.

"What's going on?" Harry asked him quickly.

"The diary- it's His," Draco said with difficulty, not needing to specify who he meant. "I think it's been… controlling me," he admitted. "He told me to bring it to Hogwarts, to write in it, to do as it instructed. But," he gasped and Harry heard something like a voice from near the diary, "I don't remember doing some of… what it said."

What little energy the youngest Malfoy had left was clearly draining fast as he fell to both hands and knees.

Laughing from somewhere next to them was shortly followed by a voice, "My basilisk will kill you, Harry Potter!"

Sensing the monster closing in behind him, Harry shoved Hermione forward and dove after her. He felt a tug on his right hand and arm.

The sound of cracking, splintering wood reached his ears. He had barely avoided the basilisk, but it had destroyed the wand Harry had been using for a few months now.

"What do we do?" Harry asked Hermione as he pulled her up and they continued their tiring game of chase. "It got my wand."

"I don't know…" Hermione said, out of breath now. She shot a spell over her shoulder blindly, hoping it might cause some damage but having little confidence that it would really help them.

Suddenly, Hermione stopped and Harry nearly ran straight into her back.

"Colin…" she said in a quiet voice.

There, off to one side of the Chamber, just a few feet in front of them, was a perfect statue of a boy holding a camera. From what Harry could see of his facial expression, he looked horrified. Regaining his senses from the frightening discovery, Harry pushed them to the side as the huge snake lunged at them.

The side of its head just clipped Harry's shoulder, and he was thrown sideways into Hermione, knocking them both to the ground.

Pushing himself up off of the floor of the Chamber, he watched helplessly as the basilisk crashed into the statue.

Harry froze. As if in slow motion he watched the statue shatter. Distantly, he could hear the crashing of stone and the cry of the snake.

Noticing almost too late that the snake was turning its head, Harry turned away and shielded Hermione's eyes, which were also fixed on where Colin's statue had been.

With effort, they pulled themselves up and tried to keep their distance from the snake. Harry knew this couldn't last much longer; they were both tired and so far they had only gotten lucky because the basilisk was so large and not as quick.

"What… happened?" Harry asked, figuring she would know he meant about the statue and not wanting to waste more time or breath.

"I think I read before that its gaze only kills you if you look at it directly…" she explained. "Since he saw it through his camera," she hesitated, clearly upset, "it only petrified him."

"I'm sorry," Harry told her honestly. But he didn't wait to get back to the problem at hand, "Do you have any ideas?"

"What if we try to cover its eyes? Then we won't be able to see them and it wouldn't hurt us to look at it. We can't really fight back if we can't see it," she said in a rush.

"Good plan," Harry agreed, following her behind a pillar and unexpectedly seeing the front of the beast instead of the back.

"No!" he shouted, yanking Hermione back toward him, hoping she hadn't looked up.

"We need to get it into one of the smaller tunnels," Hermione said. "If it has this much room to move around, I'll never be able to cover it."

"I'll be the decoy, then," Harry told her. "You hide and I'll get it to follow me, then you come up alongside it and drop something on it to cover its eyes."

"Harry, that-" he could hear the protest of 'that's too dangerous' in her voice and cut her off immediately.

"We don't have time!" he countered. "Go that way," he directed, letting her run behind a pillar as he continued straight, hoping the monster would pursue him.

"You can't catch me," he yelled recklessly.

Hermione had pulled out a black cloak from her magic bag and was making it grow to a huge size as the monster followed Harry.

Deeper into the Chamber, in front of the statue of Salazar Slytherin, Draco was struggling with the little black diary.

"Hurry up, Hermione!" Harry yelled to her.

Grabbing up the cloak in her hands, she ran after Harry alongside the basilisk.

Running as fast as his legs would still carry him, Harry sprinted down the first slightly smaller tunnel that branched off from the huge main pipe. He could still hear the snake right on his heels.

His stomach dropped as he reached a dead end. Skidding to a halt before slamming into the bars covering the pipe, Harry panted heavily, both from physical exertion and panic. He was trapped.

"Harry!" Hermione called from somewhere behind him, and Harry sensed the basilisk pause in its movements. It had been instructed to get her first, if possible…

The monster must have decided that this opportunity was too good to pass up, however. It focused its attention back on Harry, who now gripping the bars desperately, forcing himself not to turn around.

Just then, he heard Hermione's voice saying a spell and the sound of fabric shuffling a few feet behind him.

"I did it!" she called to Harry. "Its eyes are covered! But you have to get out of there!"

Harry heard the beast thrashing around behind him, probably trying to shake off the cover. Taking a breath and trusting Hermione, Harry turned around and saw that its eyes were covered by a large black cloth draped over nearly its whole head.

"Brilliant!" Harry called back, realizing a second too late that the basilisk could still hear.

It stopped flailing and turned directly toward him.

Adrenaline flooded Harry's body as he realized it was about to strike. Thinking fast, he crouched down and made noise against the floor of the pipe and lower bars. When the basilisk dove forward, down at the ground where the sounds had been, Harry leapt up.

Amazingly, he got just enough height in the jump to get a foot on the basilisk's head. Now using his hands, too, he pulled himself onto its head, intending to run back to the Chamber as the monster tried to awkwardly back up. There was enough space in the smaller tunnel above the monster that if he crouched down a bit, he could walk on its back. In a split second, his fear started to ease as he saw his way out.

But just as Harry got both feet on top of the basilisk, it reared its head up and Harry was slammed into the pipe overhead, his back taking the brunt of the blow.

"Harry!" Hermione shouted as Harry landed limply on the covered head of the basilisk.

The last thing he saw was the terrified expression on her face.

* * *

Loud crashing reached Harry's ears uncomfortably as his head throbbed. He pushed himself up enough to see what was going on, his back protesting in pain.

Hermione was blasting spells off the walls of the Chamber, presumably to keep the attention of the blindfolded basilisk trailing her.

Seeing that Harry had regained consciousness, she called out to him.

"Get your cloak out of my bag!" she instructed, throwing the small, magic bag to him as she ducked behind a pillar.

Harry caught it, sitting up to a crouch and reached in, hoping he could easily find the cloak. Feeling something soft, he pulled and found the Sorting Hat in his hand instead.

Glancing up, he saw Hermione backed into a corner by the basilisk. Her back was to a large pile of rubble created in the Chamber earlier when she had brought several pillars down on the beast, and now, she had nowhere else to go.

From that far away, and with no wand, Harry was powerless to stop it.

"No!" he shouted, hearing his voice break.

Hermione dove to the side, dodging its first attack, but now she was on the ground and there was nothing to stop it from striking this time.

He had to do something. He had to help her.

But he couldn't.

A wave of emotions hit him hard as he stood rooted to the spot, watching as she backed away from the basilisk. In seconds it was going to attack again. He had never felt so powerless, so helpless.

As the basilisk drew back, preparing to strike, a yell from deeper into the Chamber halted it.

Tearing his eyes from Hermione as the snake hesitated, he saw Draco and, to his great surprise, Dobby, struggling with the diary.

"Get them away from me!" the voice from the diary commanded. "Kill them!"

The basilisk turned, obeying its master, and swiftly closed the gap between itself and the offenders.

Harry turned his attention back to Hermione and ran to her side, the Sorting Hat still in his hand but forgotten.

"Hermione! Hermione, are you alright?" he asked frantically, kneeling down next to her.

She looked dazed and scared as Harry reached down to help her sit up.

"I think I'm alright," she said, her voice shaking slightly. He could hear the confidence she was trying to put in it to reassure him.

The relief he felt was so strong it made him a little light-headed; he had been so sure she was going to die.

"I-I was so scared," he admitted, realizing that he was shaking. "It was coming toward you and I couldn't do anything and I thought-"

"Harry," Hermione interrupted, "it's coming back! Where's my wand?"

He turned to see the basilisk slithering quickly toward them as Hermione searched the ground nearby for her wand. Dobby was chasing after the monster, yelling and waving his arms. His eyes spotted Draco lying on the floor back by the statue of Slytherin.

"No," Hermione said next to him. Her wand had been knocked too far away by the basilisk's previous attacks.

_What do we do?_

With no wands and no time to move, they were caught. Harry cursed himself for being careless and getting caught up in the relief that Hermione was alive.

Suddenly a glint of light caught Harry's eye on the ground next to him. Something silver was sticking out of the Sorting Hat. Without giving it a second thought, Harry reached in and pulled the object out.

A long, shining silver sword slid out of the old hat. Acting on instinct, Harry moved in front of Hermione and slashed the sword just as the basilisk got within his reach.

Triumph elated him as the sword found its target, the force of the beast still knocking Harry back into the rubble next to Hermione.

Looking at the monster, he saw the black cloak slipping off- his slash had caused a long gash on the basilisk's head, but it had also sliced right through the fabric hiding its eyes.

Before Harry could even think about shutting his eyes, he heard Dobby yell, "No!" and a bright light blinded him.

He heard the beast cry out in pain and Dobby's gasp of fear.

Still unable to see anything but white light, Harry reached out for Hermione, remembering where she had been.

"No!" the voice from the diary weakly called. "The stupid elf- he may have blinded it, but it can still kill you!"

_Blinded?_

Dobby had blinded it? Did that mean they could look at it now?

His vision was slowly returning as a bright outline of objects, which was very disorienting. Having found Hermione, they helped each other up, staggering as their eyes readjusted.

"Potter!" Draco called out urgently. "Get over here!"

They made their way to Draco, who was now sitting up though it seemed like he was having a hard time of it.

"Attack where you hear them!" the diary voice hissed to the basilisk, and it stopped raging, turning around toward them with the focus of a predator moving in for the kill.

They froze, still several feet from him. The basilisk was approaching fast. Draco crawled and reached over to the diary as the giant snake came closer.

"Its eyes are destroyed; you can look at it now," Draco said loudly.

"Malfoy, shut up!" Harry called, but the beast was focused on the first voice it had heard; it was going to take them one by one.

"Get that sword ready," Draco demanded as the snake prepared to strike him.

Harry pushed away from Hermione and did as Draco asked. As expected, the Basilisk dove toward Malfoy, its sharp teeth bared.

In a swift movement, Draco spun around to face the basilisk, picking up the diary and holding in both hands, blocking its attack.

"No!" the voice from the diary yelled, but it was too late; two of the basilisks fangs had stabbed right through the little book.

Draco had executed his plan well, but he couldn't stop the force of the giant beast's attack.

Several fangs had pierced his arms.

"Now!" Malfoy yelled to Harry.

Tensing his muscles, Harry slashed forward with all his strength. The silver sword sliced right through the basilisk, a few feet from its head. There was no question whether or not the wound it caused would be fatal.

In seconds, the great monster of Slytherin fell to its side at the feet of his statue.

Draco was trembling, struggling to get his arms free of the lifeless beast.

Harry rushed over to him and helped pull him from the fangs. Trying not to look at the red seeping through Malfoy's white sleeves and spreading fast, Harry helped him sit down.

"Do we have anything to help him?" Harry asked Hermione.

"No," Hermione answered in a shaky voice. "From what I've read there is nothing known to help basilisk venom except phoenix tears. I'm sorry…"

"It's alright," Draco said. Despite the situation, his expression was somewhat peaceful.

Harry knelt next to him, not sure what to say.

"I never wanted to do this…" Draco admitted. "They are dead, because of me." Harry knew he meant Colin, and- the thought struck him painfully- Dobby.

"You saved us," Harry told him firmly. "If it wasn't for you, we'd be dead, too."

"I never liked you, Potter," Draco said in a strained, weak voice that still held a bit of determination. His eyes were becoming unfocused and threatening to slip closed.

He blinked hard and looked Harry in the eyes with a challenging stare.

"Beat him," Draco requested before his body slowly relaxed and his eyes closed, his forehead softly coming to rest on the floor of the Chamber of Secrets.


	31. Haunted

Next chapter up! I'll try to update again sooner since this one is a bit darker, too. Don't want anyone getting depressed because of my story. I hope you like it. Thanks so much for the support- you guys are awesome!

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**Chapter 31: Haunted**

The trip back through the underground tunnels leading away from the Chamber of Secrets was a long one. He was tired and sore and bruised, but Harry felt nothing as his feet carried him toward the exit and his arms carried the body of his first friend. The small elf felt weightless in Harry's grasp, in complete contrast to the heaviness of his heart.

His childhood rival's wand now sticking out of his pocket, Harry trudged on, following the footsteps of whoever was ahead of him.

Mere minutes after Draco had fallen to the basilisk venom and Harry had found Dobby, Ginny returned to the Chamber with several professors at her heels. Harry remembered vaguely hearing Hermione speak with them.

She probably explained how they had found the Chamber, how Colin's petrified state had been smashed, how Dobby had managed to blind them momentarily to save them from looking into the basilisk's eyes and blinded it permanently, how the friendly, helpful little elf had seen the eyes himself and died instantly. He also imagined her telling them of Draco, a Slytherin to the core who had always longed to be a Death Eater but quickly found out that it was more than he bargained for, who had been forced to open the Chamber and had ultimately sacrificed himself to help them kill the monster he had awoken.

He was aware of the others making the trip back to Hogwarts with him, but to Harry, they felt miles away.

Some of the group split once they got back to the bathroom, but Harry didn't take notice of who left and who remained.

Realizing someone had been speaking to him directly for more than a few seconds, Harry forced himself to listen.

"Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall was saying in a gentle voice, "what would you like to do with him?"

"I want to bury him," Harry said and the hoarse voice that came out sounded nothing like his own had for the past few months.

The older witch merely nodded and led him from the bathroom. He could sense someone else following them but didn't care to know who it was.

* * *

The first rays of sunlight were just coming up over the horizon as Harry finished, his friend buried at dawn on the Hogwarts' grounds. Something in his mind told him that standing outside of the school Death Eaters currently controlled when he was enemy number one wasn't a smart thing to do, but Harry didn't listen. Instead, he assumed that McGonagall had found a way to make sure he wasn't seen as he buried the elf.

For a while, he stood in silence, his mind wandering through dark memories and thoughts. After some time, he felt a light pressure on his arm and flinched away from it. Turning, he saw Hermione holding out his invisibility cloak to him. He understood the message- they should get back inside.

Not meeting her eyes, he nodded once and allowed her to wrap the cloak around them.

Seconds of silence passed before Hermione took his hand and began leading him back toward the castle.

Harry had let go before they reached the doors.

* * *

When they finally reached the hideout, no one spoke to them. Someone must have warned the others to give them space. It didn't spare them from the eyes following their every move, though.

Sitting down on his cot, Harry figured that he should feel tired, seeing as it was morning and he hadn't slept all night, but he didn't. Or maybe he was tired but he just couldn't tell.

Without looking he knew Hermione was watching him, trying to gauge what he was thinking and feeling and trying to figure out what to do, but he put it out of his mind.

"We should really try to get some sleep," she said eventually. Her voice was quiet and hesitant, and her tone said "I'm sorry" though her words didn't.

For some reason, he was glad she hadn't said it aloud.

Harry simply nodded and when she handed him a change of clothes, he went to the bathroom in the hideout and mechanically switched outfits. Not sure what to do with the dirty, blood-covered clothing he had taken off, he returned to Hermione with the old clothes still in his hands.

Cautiously, she took them from him and asked if it was alright if she got rid of them. When he nodded again, she took care of them; Harry didn't watch how.

A minute later, Harry was staring at the ceiling of the hideout. He was now acutely aware of everything around him, and it was a while before Hermione fell asleep.

Listening to the sound of her calm, even breathing soothed the war of emotions inside him somewhat.

Without warning, his mind replayed the scene in the Chamber: the basilisk closing in on her, her back to a steep pile of rubble, she dodges, but is unable to get away the second time; he is watching, too far away, without a wand, helpless.

For the first time since they slayed Slytherin's monster, Harry looked at Hermione.

She had changed clothes, too, but what he could see of her body was covered in a variety of minor injuries… how easily it could have been her instead of Dobby, instead of Malfoy.

As he looked at her, he saw her lying in the bed at Grimmauld Place, covered in bloody wraps and towels in his mind's eye.

He saw a jet of green light rapidly approaching her.

His eyes moved to her face, which looked surprisingly peaceful despite everything that had happened, and he remembered her eyes. In an instant, he knew what he wanted to do.

Quietly sitting up, Harry glanced around the room. There were a few people there, but most of them had gone back to sleep.

Getting up slowly, Harry knelt down between their cots. Reaching into Hermione's magic bag, he pulled out the things he needed: one of the small backpacks Hermione had in her bag just in case, his invisibility cloak, the sword (which he had heard someone say was Gryffindor's), the other Horcruxes (the cup and the locket), enough food for a few days, and his snitch.

He packed the items into the backpack, carefully wrapped the sword in a strong fabric he found in Hermione's bag, quickly before putting it on and standing.

Stealing one last look at Hermione, only partly to make sure she was still sleeping, Harry turned and headed toward the portrait.

The young woman in the painting seemed to understand what he wanted, and the frame swung forward, revealing the secret passage leading out of Hogwarts. Looking back into the room his eyes locked with Neville, who was sitting up on his cot, watching silently.

For several seconds, Harry held his gaze, but then he turned back to the passage, climbed up onto the ledge, and didn't look back.

* * *

Harry spent most of the time in the shadowy tunnel telling himself that he was doing the right thing. Somehow, he was sure that Hermione wouldn't have let him go without her if he had told her his plan.

When he hopped off the ledge on the other side, he was surprised to hear people talking. Instinctively drawing Draco's wand and tensing, listening hard, he realized that he recognized the voices. After a minute, the speaking stopped and Harry heard a door close.

Then, to the surprise of both wizards, Lupin walked into the room to find Harry standing there, wand at the ready.

"Harry," Lupin said, clearly not having expected anyone to be in the room.

They considered each other before Lupin's eyes strayed from him.

"Where is Hermione?" he asked.

Harry tried not to look like he had just been punched in the gut.

"Back at Hogwarts," he answered in a tight voice.

"What happened?" Remus asked. Harry was sure the man could tell that he didn't want to talk about it, but for some reason he wasn't backing down.

"It's a long story," Harry said, trying to dodge the real question.

"I'm sure it is," Lupin agreed carefully, "but I'm also sure there's a much more simple reason Hermione isn't with you."

"I left her there," Harry confessed, not seeing the point in trying to avoid it anymore. What he wanted more than anything at that moment was to run out of the pub and not stop until he was far away from everything.

"Does she know?" his parents' friend asked.

"Not yet," Harry told him. "She is asleep."

Lupin seemed to consider this for a moment, studying Harry closely.

"Why are you leaving her behind?" he asked finally. "I doubt she will be happy about it when she finds out."

"I know," Harry answered half-heartedly, not really caring if she wasn't going to like it.

"That doesn't answer my question," he pressed.

Somewhere within him, Harry felt anger at being held up and Lupin's refusal to leave him alone.

"I've known Hermione for quite a while," Lupin said slowly. "She really cares about you."

Whatever Harry had been expecting him to say, it certainly wasn't that.

Something in Harry's chest tightened.

"I can't- she'll get hurt," Harry struggled to get out, not looking at the older wizard before him.

To his surprise, Lupin let out a quiet laugh.

"For quite a while, I pushed away a woman who cared about me in order to protect her," he told Harry. "But she didn't give up on me, and eventually I realized that all I was really doing was making both of us unhappy."

Harry's eyes traveled to Lupin's face, unable to hide his curiosity.

"Now she is my wife," Remus said, watching Harry's reaction.

The comparison caught Harry off guard, and it showed in his eyes. Why was Lupin comparing his situation with his wife to what he and Hermione were going through? Surely it wasn't similar enough to compare…

"Think about that," Lupin suggested, seeing the confused expression on Harry's face.

Not knowing how to respond, Harry waited for Lupin to speak again.

"Speaking of my wife," the change in his tone was clearly evident, "she had our baby not long ago."

Harry's eyes shot up again.

"We named him Teddy," Lupin added. "I hope that you will be a part of his life in the future, as well as ours." His tone held a genuine sincerity.

The messages were clear to Harry: he wasn't alone, there were people who cared about him, who wanted to know him beyond the war; he had the possibility of a future.

Maybe it should have reassured him, but after everything that had just happened, Harry felt a terrifying, suffocating fear start to seize him.

"Th-thanks," Harry choked out with difficulty.

Sirius, Dobby, Malfoy, all of the others he hadn't known…

"I need to get going," Harry said in a rush, moving toward the door. When he reached it, he paused for a moment, turning back to look at Lupin.

Harry wanted to say something, but he couldn't find the words.

"Just don't do something reckless," Lupin advised seriously. Then he added in a lighter tone, "If something happens to you, I don't want to be the one she comes after for not stopping you from leaving."

Harry simply nodded. He really did like Lupin, but he had to go.

With that, he pulled on his invisibility cloak and slipped out of the pub and into the fresh, morning air.

* * *

Hours later found Harry asleep in a small tent, surrounded by trees. He had apparated back to the Forest of Dean once he was well outside of Hogsmeade and conjured a small tent. Pausing only briefly to put up some of the wards before dragging himself inside, he collapsed on a cot, completely spent. He had only the essentials with him in a backpack lying next to his cot: the sword of Gryffindor, which he had gotten while in the Chamber of Secrets, the two Horcruxes he and Hermione had located but hadn't yet destroyed, his invisibility cloak, a small amount of food, and his snitch.

When Harry woke up, he felt disoriented. It was dark outside, and several parts of his body were sore and bruised. Slowly, he remembered the horrors of the Chamber of Secrets and leaving Hogwarts alone, falling asleep sometime in the morning when his tired body could no longer support him.

Glancing around the dull, unimpressive tent, Harry tried to make sense of what had happened. He had no idea what time it was or how long he had slept, but he guessed it was some time the next night. An uncomfortable feeling squirmed in him as he realized that by now Hermione would definitely know that he had left without her.

She would be mad, of that there was no question, but how mad he wasn't sure. Despite this, Harry told himself again that he had done the right thing. Leaving her behind was for the best.

Draco, Dobby, and the Hogwarts student Colin had all been killed in the Chamber. And he couldn't stop it; he couldn't save them. The other students rumored as missing must have been ones who found their way to the Room of Requirement to hide out, according to something he had heard McGonagall say to one of the other teachers.

Reaching into the backpack he had taken from Hermione's beaded bag, he got out some food and forced it down with difficulty.

_So, the diary was destroyed in the Chamber- by Draco. That was definitely a Horcrux. And a basilisk fang is what destroyed it. Hermione said the sword absolutely should work for the others… something about it taking in things that make it stronger. Dumbledore also said he had destroyed a ring, so that's two. We found two more: Slytherin's locket and the cup of Hufflepuff._

_ That's four total, so there should be two more if he really split his soul into seven pieces, with the last part still in his body._

_ I've also got the snitch Dumbledore left me, but I've no idea what that's got to do with anything. 'I open at the close'…_

_ And there's the whole Deathly Hallows story. I know he's looking for the wand, if he hasn't gotten it already. An unbeatable wand- as if this wasn't impossible enough, he's probably going to have an unbeatable wand…_

_I don't know much about the other two, except what they are supposed to do, but they shouldn't matter if he doesn't want them._

_The Resurrection Stone… being able to speak with the dead…_

For a reason he couldn't explain, Harry put off trying to use the sword to destroy the Horcruxes he already had and instead sat thinking about the ones he had yet to find. When he hit a dead end, he tried to guide his thoughts to other information which might be useful. He spent hours concentrating on these things, simply thinking rather than acting, and a few days passed before he got the courage to do more than that.

Maybe it was because his body still felt so strained and tired. Maybe it was because he felt so alone without her. Maybe he just needed to devote all of his energy onto keeping his thoughts productive. Because as soon as his focus slipped and his mind wandered, he found himself back at Hogwarts, deep underneath the castle, surrounded by suffocating damp walls and a maze of tunnels, facing his fears.

* * *

Many miles away, a distracted witch was lying awake, too. She had been told in earnest that she was one of the smartest of her age. If this was true, then why- _why_ couldn't she figure out what was going on with her and the person she had thought she was growing so close to?

He couldn't be gone; he just couldn't really be gone…


	32. Reach Out

This one is decently shorter than most of the chapters recently, but that's just how it turned out. The next two chapters are some of my favorites so far, so I really hope you guys like them. Thanks for reading!

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**Chapter 32: Reach Out**

Salazar Slytherin's locket glinted in the fading sunlight as twilight approached the forest. Harry stood a good distance from the tent, the sword of Gryffindor in his hands, his muscles taut. He remembered Kreacher saying something about needing to open the Locket before destroying it.

His eyes darted around the forest nervously before he approached the locket, which he had rested atop a flat tree stump.

On the front of the locket, there was a symbol of snake. Staring at it closely, it looked almost real. Fresh from his experience in the Chamber of Secrets, Harry felt as though he knew what to do; it had been the solution every other time something with a snake symbol needed opening.

Focusing on the snake, Harry spoke.

"Open," he heard his voice hiss in Parseltongue, and the locket obeyed.

The golden locket opened, revealing two glass windows on either side. To his surprise, Harry saw what looked like a human eye behind the glass. He shook it off and raised the sword, remembering what he had to do.

Then a voice called to him from within the locket, just as it had from the diary, though this voice sounded older and much more sinister.

_"Harry Potter,"_ it said. _"I look into your eyes, and I can see into your soul."_

The voice itself sent a shiver through Harry, and he forgot himself as his curiosity got the better of him. What did it mean, see into his soul?

_"I have seen your heart, and it is mine."_

Harry lowered the sword slightly, his attention focused on the words coming from the locket.

_"You were raised by my followers. Now you have turned your back on them. But I can see the doubt in your eyes… you don't even know who you are,"_ the voice hissed.

A dark, shadowy figure grew out of the locket, twisting and expanding until it shaped into a horrific version of Harry, wearing a dark expression.

_"You wonder what your parents would think of you, knowing the things you have done to help me."_

Harry watched, transfixed as the shadow version of him smirked coldly.

_"You have tortured, and stood by while innocents were killed. Because of you, I was able to return. Tell me, Harry,"_ Voldemort's voice continued, now sounding as if it was right next to Harry's ear, speaking quietly, _"if your parents can see you, wherever they are, what do they think of who you have become…?"_

The ghostly shape shifted into replicas of his parents. They looked similar to the way they did in the picture Lupin had given him of those who fought Voldemort the first time. Except now, they were merely smoke and shadows.

_"How could you do those things, Harry?"_ his mother pleaded. _"You tortured those innocent people. You let them die. You didn't help them."_

She was crying now. Harry felt pain gripping his chest as he struggled to breathe evenly. His eyes moved to the image of his father, who looked a lot like him, but the expression on his face was one of contempt.

_"We were fighting to save those people,"_ he said in a firm, rough voice. _"We ended up dying for it, and this is how you treat them? You are no son of mine."_

Harry could feel his hands shaking around the sword. He couldn't focus on anything but the figures before him. It was true; he _did _often wonder, since finding out that his parents had actually been fighting against the Death Eaters, what they thought of everything he had done- of who he had become.

It was too real, too easy to believe that this was truly what they thought. How could they forgive him for what he had done, and not done, when so often he couldn't forgive himself?

His parents' likenesses dissipated and the smoke reformed into shadow with no true shape as the Voldemort's voice returned. Now, in the locket, Harry could see red, evil eyes behind the glass where the others had been.

_"Do you even know what you are fighting for, Harry? The thought of a future terrifies you. I know,"_ the voice goaded. _"What do you see for yourself in the future?"_

Nothing. It was a complete blank.

He couldn't picture his future at all. What would he do? What would he be like? Who would be there with him?

"_You are alone, and you will always be alone. You have no future to fight for. You have nothing. So why keep trying? Why keep lying to yourself?"_

Harry struggled to find an answer to the question. Everything the locket was saying was true: the doubts about himself, about what his parents would think of him, the future… How could he have a future? He was still trying to figure out who he was- who he wanted to be. He didn't have anyone…

Wait, that wasn't true…

Hermione.

Just as she entered his mind, the shadows above the locket morphed into her. After leaving her behind, seeing her so suddenly caught him off guard.

His breath hitched, and he almost lost his balance.

_"You think she will be there in the future, should you defeat me?"_ He knew the answer before another word was spoken. _"I will not let her live to see the end of this. I will take her from you just as I have everyone else."_

Harry watched in horror was the locket's version of Hermione suddenly looked frightened, then terrified, falling to her knees and pleading for her life, pleading for him to save her.

"No!" Harry shouted, taking a step toward her, wanting desperately to help her. "Hermione!"

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew this was an illusion, but it was overpowering him. He couldn't think straight. He could hardly see straight. His deepest fears and insecurities were playing out right in front of him.

_"Even if you defeated me, and she did survive…"_ the voice became quieter again, close to him, less malicious, _"do you think she will still be with you?"_

The words slowly sunk in, and the reality and doubts accompanying them weighed Harry down. He could almost feel the energy draining from his muscles, feel whatever determination was inside him slowly slipping away.

_"She only stayed with you so long because she wants to defeat me."_

Was that true? That was certainly why she went with him in the first place, but over time, he thought it had become more than that…

"_Do you actually think she cares for you?"_

The words hit Harry hard. He tried to recall memories that might have made it seem like she cared about him, but they wouldn't come. Whatever was going on, it was getting inside his head.

_"I know how you feel about her,"_ the tone was almost teasing now, _"I can see it in your eyes."_

"I-I don't…" Harry began to protest weakly.

_"Do you really think I care about you?"_ the shadow of Hermione asked. _"You know why I was helping you. I'm glad you left. I'm happier without you."_

And there it was, plain and simple.

There was no doubt in Harry's mind; this was true, she was happy he had left. She was happier without him. The knowledge of it felt crushing, almost suffocating.

All that time, she hadn't really cared about him.

Harry fell to his knees and the sword dropped in front of him, long forgotten.

_"What did you think?"_ she taunted. _"Because you were obviously wrong. You mean nothing to me."_

Part of his consciousness vaguely registered hearing something in the background. Maybe the fog was getting to him.

"_Did you think we were friends?" _

He heard the noise again; it was a voice- a different voice.

"_Did you think I liked you, Harry?"_

The voice was calling to him.

"_Did you think… that maybe I loved you?"_

"Harry!"

His focus snapped as if he had been slapped in the face. His eyes found Hermione, solid and very much alive, standing a few feet away from him and the locket. She was struggling to move forward, being held back by wisps of the dark magic coming from the locket.

_"I know your fears, Harry Potter,"_ the cold, chilling voice from the locket warned. _"I will make them a reality."_

_"I don't care about you!"_ the shadow of Hermione told him fiercely.

"Harry, don't listen to it!" Hermione called to him. "Use the sword! You have to destroy the locket!"

_"I was better off without you! You are nothing to me!"_

"Harry, please, trust me!"

This time her words reached him, and he picked up the sword, standing as he grasped the hilt tightly.

The illusion of Hermione became frightened again, her eyes scared and desperate as she cowered away from him.

He hesitated.

_"Harry, please don't do this. Please don't hurt me!" _The voice pleaded with him, sounding more like Hermione than it had before.

"Do it!" Hermione yelled. "You can do it, Harry!"

Determination surged through him, and his muscles tensed. He plunged the sword downward with everything he had, stabbing through the dark image of Hermione and bringing it down on the locket.

A piercing scream deafened him momentarily as the Horcrux was destroyed.

Pain flooded his scar, and he slowly crumpled to the ground.

* * *

A few hours later he jolted awake, breathing heavily and shaking all over. Hermione was standing over him in the dimly lit tent, one of her hands on his shoulder.

_It was just a dream. _

_Hermione found me. I destroyed the Horcrux. She's alright._

"Harry, it was just a dream, are you alright?" her words tumbled out in a whispered rush. Harry took a breath, trying to calm himself down, but he could feel his eyes welling up with tears. It had been years since he had really cried. He fought to keep it in, balling his fists and squeezing his eyes shut.

"Harry," she said gently.

He felt her hand lightly touch his tensed face and a tear slipped from his eye and right to one of her fingers. A slight hitch in her breath told him she had noticed, and he took in a sharp, shallow breath of his own, still trying to will himself not to show weakness like this.

"It's okay," she whispered to him. "I'm right here... It's alright. Let it out." She sat lightly on the edge of his cot next to him, and he could feel her hesitation. After several seconds, she tentatively pulled him into her, his head resting just below her shoulder. No one had ever held him like this.

His arms wrapped around her tightly, suddenly, as if he was afraid she would disappear. He choked back sobs and clung to her as his tears finally poured out.

Shaking and fighting to breathe through his pain, he cried for everything he had lost and everything he had done.


	33. Stay

Really hope you like this chapter. Thanks and read on.

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**Chapter 33: Stay**

Cringing slightly as he tried to open his eyes, Harry noticed he had a decent headache and felt stuffy. Surprisingly, though, he felt better than he had in a long time. His muscles protested as he tried to move, but he ignored them. Searching his memory as he propped himself up on one arm, pieces of his nightmare came back to him, then…

_Hermione. Was that a dream, too? It certainly felt real._

He remembered Hermione waking him, then sitting on the cot and holding him while he cried. Heat rushed to his face.

_Did I really cry in front of her like that? And hold on to her?_

After years and years of teaching himself to hold in his emotions, which he had started to learn was useful even back when he lived at the Dursleys', he had broken down in front of her and cried his eyes out for Merlin knows how long. Harry laid back down on the cot, looking up at the tent, feeling mortified.

How was he supposed to act normal around her now? As more and more came back to him, his thoughts felt like a jumbled mess. What would he say to her when he saw her?

_ So… about all that crying, can we just forget that ever happened? Oh, and sorry about leaving you back at Hogwarts while you were asleep, I suppose that wasn't very brave of me. By the way, how on Earth did you find me here? And everything with the locket… how much of that did you hear, exactly? …a bunch of rubbish, really… no need to worry about all that._

"Ugh…" Harry groaned as he rolled over onto his side, facing the wall of the tent. "This is ridiculous! What am I supposed to tell her?"

"You could just tell her the truth."

Harry rolled back over so fast he fell right off of the cot. Blushing furiously, he sat up and looked up at her from the floor.

She was biting her lip to hold back a laugh and smiling slightly. Harry gave her a sheepish grin and ran a hand through his hair awkwardly.

"Err… I didn't realize you were there," Harry explained lamely.

"I noticed," she said in an amused tone. "I'm sorry I snuck up on you. I didn't mean to scare you. Are you alright?"

"Yeah," Harry stood up, trying not to think about how much of a complete idiot he felt like at the moment. "So… what were you coming in here for, anyway?"

"I was coming to check on you," the lightness in her voice was replaced by a more sincere tone. "I thought I heard you saying something in your sleep."

"Oh," Harry said, not really sure what else to say.

His head hurt, and he felt confused. How much of that had been a dream…?

"What… happened, exactly?" Harry asked her hesitantly, chancing a glance at her face. "How did you get here?"

All traces of humor quickly left her features as she looked at him.

"You left me at Hogwarts," she said in a tone that told him this conversation could be dangerous. "You left while I was asleep."

She paused for a moment, and Harry simply nodded, wanting her to continue. Now didn't feel like the time for apologies.

"When I woke up, I panicked. I thought something had happened to you, but Neville told me he saw you leaving."

She folded her arms across her chest and looked away from him.

"At first, I was going to go looking for you, but then I thought about it and… I wasn't sure what to do. I knew I'd never be able to find you, anyway."

"So for the next two days, I just stayed at Hogwarts. I helped out Luna and the others with whatever they were doing. Then…" she hesitated, "more Death Eaters started showing up. They are taking over Hogwarts."

"What?" Harry asked, shocked that Voldemort had made such a bold move so suddenly.

"I think You-Know-Who thought you were still there, and that's why he went for it now. I don't know. I heard he has a small army on the way to Hogwarts."

Harry's mind was racing, thinking about the students at Hogwarts, Hermione, why Voldemort would have done this now…

"Anyway," Hermione said, getting back to her story, "when I found out, I just felt like I had to find you. So I left Hogwarts."

This surprised him: she had left the place that had been her home for years when it was in danger to find him?

"I had no idea how I was going to do it, but when I got outside of Hogsmeade… I heard your voice…"

Harry's eyes found her face, trying to read her expression.

"You heard my voice?" Harry asked.

"Yes," she answered in a softer tone, reaching into one of her jacket pockets and pulling out a small silver object. "I heard your voice coming from inside my jacket. It came out of the Deluminator."

"What did I say?" he asked, confused but genuinely curious.

"You said…" she hesitated and Harry thought he noticed her cheeks turn a bit red. "You said my name. 'Hermione.' That was all."

Harry listened with interest as she continued, glad that she didn't seem nearly as angry or upset as she had at the beginning of her story.

"So I took out the Deluminator- it had been in my pocket from when I was at Hogwarts. It didn't look any different than when I'd used it the day before, but I was sure I'd heard your voice, so I clicked it."

"There weren't any lights to collect since I was outside of Hogsmeade by then, but a ball of light just appeared out of nowhere a few feet from me. It was the strangest thing," Hermione said, sounding puzzled herself. "The light was a shade of blue that reminded me of a Portkey. My instincts told me to follow it, so I did."

"Then, when I got closer to the light, it sort of… went into my chest," she said, looking unsure of how to word what had happened.

"Sorry?" Harry said, not sure if he understood.

"The light," Hermione tried to explain more descriptively, "floated toward me, and went right through me, here," she touched her fingertips lightly to a spot near the center of her chest.

It took Harry a few seconds to realize that where she was pointing was right near her heart.

"It was strange- it felt warm, and I just… knew what to do. I knew it would take me to you," she said.

"I Disapparated and it brought me here. I heard voices, so I ran toward them, and I found you and the locket."

"Wow," was all Harry could think of to say in response. "How much did you hear?" he asked before he could stop himself.

"Enough," she answered simply, meeting his eyes.

"And it's a good thing I did!" Hermione said, now sounding infuriated all over again. "What were you thinking, trying to destroy it yourself? It could have killed you!"

"I think it nearly did," Harry admitted quietly, not looking at her. "I felt all of the energy just draining from my body…"

"Thanks," he added, his eyes glancing back to her face briefly, "you saved my life."

She hesitated for several seconds before walking forward and hugging him tightly.

Harry's stomach flipped, flustered by her unexpected action. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her.

For a while, they stayed like that, silently holding one another.

Eventually, she pulled back.

"Harry, why did you leave?" she asked quietly. Her voice sounded soft and vulnerable and it tightened Harry's chest uncomfortably.

"Because…"

He hesitated as he searched for a decent answer, a good enough excuse.

"Because I thought it was for the best."

"Why didn't you say something? Why didn't you tell me what you were doing?" Hermione asked, her voice desperate to understand.

"I didn't think you'd have let me go without you," he answered honestly. Now he wasn't so sure.

"I wouldn't have," she answered without hesitation.

"Then that's why," Harry confirmed.

"I don't understand… Did you really think you would be better off without me?"

"For a brilliant witch, you sure do miss the obvious sometimes," Harry said. "I just need to finish this on my own, Hermione."

"What do you mean?" she asked, looking confused.

"I mean, you need to go back to Hogwarts and help out there. I need to go and finish finding these Horcruxes."

He hadn't planned on saying it, but the words were just flowing from him effortlessly, as if he had rehearsed. The scenes the locket had showed him replayed in his mind: the threats, his fears, her pleas.

"What? Don't be ridiculous! I'm not leaving you to do this on your own! You nearly died!"

"So have you!" Harry shouted suddenly. Her numerous near-death experiences since she had been helping him came to the forefront of his thoughts.

"Is that what this is about?" she asked, her voice losing some of its edge. "I can take care of myself, Harry. I'll be fine."

"No, Hermione," he said with finality, grabbing the backpack he'd taken with him before and slinging it over one shoulder. "I need to finish this on my own. I don't need you."

His harsh words stung and hung in the air as he walked past her toward the front of the tent. Guilt was already eating at him for speaking so harshly to her, especially when he knew it wasn't true. He paused a foot from the entrance.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, regret evident in his tone.

He made to move toward the exit, but he felt her hand on his arm, stopping him. She turned him around, holding onto his arms, and met his eyes in a determined gaze.

He watched her take a short breath and step closer, feeling his heart begin to speed up in his chest. Leaning forward quickly, she closed the distance between them, pressing her lips to his.

Harry's mind blanked as his eyes widened in surprise. He couldn't seem to process what was happening. Before he could react, she pulled back.

Her face was a fierce shade of scarlet, and she looked jumpy and nervous.

"Don't just leave like that, alright?" she asked in a shaky voice. "You need my help and- and I know it's dangerous but I'd rather be with you than not."

Harry wasn't sure if she meant with him as in the same location or _with_ him, given what she had just done, but decided that didn't matter right now.

"Alright," Harry answered, his own voice sounding anxious and different to him somehow. "I'm sorry. I just didn't want…"

"I know," Hermione cut in when he hesitated, "it's alright."

Their eyes met before they both looked away awkwardly.

"So, what's the plan?" Harry asked, trying to redirect their focus.


	34. The Ultimatum

Okay, here's the next chapter. It's a lot longer than the last few, so I hope you guys like it. Thanks so much for the support and reviews!

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**Chapter 34: The Ultimatum**

Hermione thought for bit before answering. During the pause, Harry noticed his scar hurting, but he was used to it enough to push it out of his mind.

"I think I know where to find another Horcrux," she said, her voice sounding much more business-like and composed. "After you left, I went with Luna to talk to the Ghost of Ravenclaw. You said Dumbledore thought some of the Horcruxes might be related to the other founders of Hogwarts, and Luna had the idea that it could be the Lost Diadem of Ravenclaw."

"The what?" Harry asked, having never heard of it before.

"Rowena Ravenclaw, the founder of her house, had an enchanted diadem that was said to increase the wearer's intelligence. But the diadem has been lost for centuries and no one has been able to find it, so Luna thought that might be what we are looking for. I was skeptical at first, since it had been lost for so long, but after we talked to the Grey Lady, I'm sure of it."

"So the Grey Lady is the ghost of Ravenclaw?"

"Oh," Hermione paused, realizing why Harry was confused, "each House has a ghost who's sort of like their mascot. The Grey Lady isn't actually Rowena Ravenclaw's ghost, she is just the ghost who helps and belongs to that House."

"Alright, I think I understand," Harry said.

"When we talked to the Grey Lady, Luna asked about the diadem. At first, she seemed mad and tried to leave, but since she liked Luna, we were able to convince her to stay and talk to us. She said something about the diadem being tainted and asked what we knew about it, so I told her that I was looking for it because I wanted to destroy it."

"Then she admitted that she was actually Helena Ravenclaw, Rowena's daughter, and that she had stolen her mother's diadem centuries ago out of jealousy. Helena said that a boy had asked about the diadem before and that she had been foolish and revealed too much to him."

"Harry, I think that was You-Know-Who, when he was a student at Hogwarts" she said, excited again to share the information she had found with him though she had known for a few days.

"And she said it was tainted now and that she regretted telling the boy too much- I think he turned it into a Horcrux and she hadn't known what he was planning when she told him where it was."

"That all makes sense, but there's just one problem," Harry reminded her. "It's been lost for centuries, remember? Even if You-Know-Who found it, we've no idea where he hid it."

Hermione smiled slyly.

"I do," she said. "Before we left, Helena said that she would be glad if we destroyed it and said that it was hidden within Hogwarts. She said that the boy she had told was arrogant, and assumed that he alone knew many of the secrets of Hogwarts. She said something like, 'To find it you need only ask in the right place.' That's got to be the Room of Requirement," Hermione told him.

"The room where we stayed, that some of the students are using as a hideout?" Harry asked, clearly unconvinced. "There's no way the Horcrux was in there."

"No," Hermione explained, trying to be patient, "remember what I told you before? The Room of Requirement takes the shape of whatever the person who finds it needs. It doesn't always look the way you saw it."

"Say, for example, someone wanted desperately to hide something… the Room would turn into a place where one could hide things," she said.

"So, if You-Know-Who found this room, and used it to hide the diadem, then all we have to do is go to Hogwarts and ask the Room of Requirement to help us find it?"

"Not exactly…" Hermione said. "When the Room of Requirement is in use, it can't be used for other purposes, and people can only get back in while others are there if they know it is currently being used, and for what purpose."

"Right," Harry said, "that's why we were able to get back in when we were at Hogwarts, because we knew what it was being used for."

"Yes."

"So are you saying we'd need to get everyone out of the hideout and then ask the Room to reform into a place where we could find the diadem?" Harry asked.

"Exactly," Hermione answered. "At least, that's what I think."

"Well, I guess it's worth a try," Harry admitted.

"Only three to go, then," Hermione said.

"Three?" Harry questioned. "You mean two." Seeing the confused look on her face, he realized what she was thinking. "I destroyed the cup."

"What, when?" she asked.

"Right before I tried to get rid of the locket," Harry explained.

"Well then," Hermione amended, "two left. And I am fairly sure there is one at Hogwarts."

"But didn't you say Death Eaters were heading there? It will be dangerous going back."

"I know," Hermione said, "but it is the only real lead we've got."

"Alright," Harry agreed, "to Hogwarts, then. And if You-Know-Who's headed there, we need to hurry."

And so, in the cover of darkness and Harry's cloak, they set off for Hogwarts one again.

* * *

The state of Hogwarts was much worse than Harry had expected. There were fewer students in the hideout than before, making the large room eerily quiet, but outside the magic walls, was a decent amount of chaos. Students were darting by frantically, the witches and wizards in the portraits were all awake and bustling about, sounding bothered, and professors strode the halls with a sense of urgent purpose.

"What's happened?" Harry asked Neville as the Gryffindor led him and Hermione out of the Room of Requirement and through the halls, with wherever Professor McGonagall was currently their destination.

Harry and Hermione were under the invisibility cloak while Neville hurried along with them, trying not to be recognized.

"You-Know-Who's sent us some sort of message telepathically, not a quarter of an hour ago," Neville explained quickly, pulling them into an alcove as one of the Carrows stormed past them, looking murderous.

They hopped out from the partially hidden area, and Neville stunned the Death Eater. He looked at the other two.

"Well, we can't just leave him walking around the halls, can we? He'll help the lot of them get in," he explained. "The teachers have gotten most of the Death Eaters out already, from what I've heard. Must've missed him."

Harry smiled slightly at Neville's reasoning. They shut him in a small broom cupboard and Hermione cast a powerful spell to seal the door.

"Come on," Harry suggested, "let's get going before another one comes by." When they nodded, he went back to asking. "What were you saying about some message?"

"Right," Neville said. "You-Know-Who spoke to everyone somehow, saying some rubbish about turning over Harry Potter."

"What?" Harry and Hermione asked simultaneously.

"Yeah," he confirmed, "dunno what he thinks is going to happen, but no one's turning you over. Most everyone in Hogwarts has never even seen you in real life."

"Where is he?" Harry asked.

"Not sure," Neville answered. "When no one spoke up about you, he said you'd have to go to meet him in the Forbidden Forest before the hour was up. I think he was expecting you to hear the message, too."

"Neville!" Hermione exclaimed, annoyed that he had revealed where Voldemort wanted Harry to go.

"One hour?" Harry asked nervously.

_That's not much time._

"And what's supposed to happen if I don't show up?"

"Well, he said if you do turn yourself in, he'll spare Hogwarts and all of the students. Wouldn't put a Knut on it, though," Neville said disbelievingly.

Neville purposely left out what would happen if he didn't.

"Don't worry, Harry," Neville continued as they quickly descended numerous flights of stairs, "we'll figure something out. We just need to get orders from McGonagall. Then we'll run back up to the Room and let the others know what to do. We need to make sure none of the Death Eaters find their way in through the pub. I'm sure Aberforth can hold them off, but it'd be safer not to test it."

Just then a jet of fire shot past them, several feet ahead of where they were walking. They hurried forward, wands out and ready.

Snape was standing a few feet down the corridor with his back to them, his wand cutting through the air, dueling Professor McGonagall.

The three of them stopped, momentarily stunned by the battle before them.

A painting flew off of the wall and turned into a fabric tapestry, wrapping itself around Snape to hold him in place, but in another second, it was an enormous snake, which quickly uncoiled itself from around him and lunged at McGonagall but was blasted into a cloud of smoke before it reached her. In a second, the smoke formed into a half a dozen miniature owls. The owls flew at Snape, ready to grab him, but he took several steps back and sent a suit of armor crashing into them and the opposite wall just before they'd reached him.

The three of them had to duck out of the way to avoid the pieces of the shattering knight.

Snape was about to send another curse McGonagall's way when Hermione stepped out from under the cloak, being the first to recover her wits from nearly being hit with collateral damage, and sent a jet of water at Snape's wand arm, which when it hit, froze and encased his arm in a thick, jagged coat of ice.

McGonagall took the advantage her student had given her, and sent another spell at Snape, but he turned and ran, narrowly dodging the incoming curse. He dashed past Hermione without a glance and hurtled into the nearest classroom, out of their line of vision. McGonagall and Hermione ran after him as Harry and Neville followed, grabbing the invisibility cloak to keep it from flying off of them.

"Severus!" McGonagall called after him, "you coward!"

When they reached the room, Harry saw McGonagall and Hermione standing near a broken window.

"What happened?" asked Neville, slipping out from under the cloak.

"He escaped," McGonagall answered. Then, at the appearance of Neville, she seemed to realize Hermione was the one who had assisted her in the duel. "Miss Granger, I thought you were going to find Potter?"

"I did," Hermione answered, and Harry revealed himself.

"I'm here," he said.

McGonagall seemed taken aback for a moment before recovering quickly.

"He's looking for you," she said urgently. "It was madness for you to come back onto Hogwarts grounds. You must flee, immediately."

"I can't," Harry said. "There's something I need, here at Hogwarts."

"Something you need…" McGonagall reiterated, sounding slightly muddled.

"Professor," Hermione stepped in, "we need to go and get something that Dumbledore thought would help against You-Know-Who. He left Harry some of his memories, explaining what he knew and what to do, more or less," Hermione tacked on as an afterthought.

"You're acting on _Dumbledore's _orders?" McGonagall asked looking thoroughly surprised for a moment. "He did always swear you were still alive…" she said more to herself than them.

"Yes," said Hermione, "but we need to get the students out of the castle. You-Know-Who-"

"Yes, of course," McGonagall cut in, her eyes becoming determined as she straighten up, seeming to come back to her full senses. "We must evacuate the students- anyone underage or who does not wish to remain and fight- and the teachers shall secure the school while you find whatever you need."

"Can you really do that?" Harry asked without a thought.

"I believe so," she said with just a slight edge in her voice. "The teachers of Hogwarts are not defenseless; in fact, we are quite good at magic. I am certain we can hold him off for a while."

"We must alert the other Heads of House. I will gather everyone in the Great Hall and give out the orders there."

"Neville," she turned to him directly, "go ahead to the Great Hall, I will meet you there once I have roused the other Gryffindors."

"Professor, Ron and Ginny and Luna," said Neville, "they're up in the Room…"

"Then you may go and get them first, quickly. Someone needs to alert Aberforth, if he isn't already aware of the situation. He will contact the Order."

"Right," Neville agreed and hurried off up the stairs.

"Expecto Patronum!" McGonagall said and a silvery cat leapt from her wand. "Wake the other teachers, the Heads of House first, pass on the message that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is coming and we are to meet with the students in the Great Hall in fifteen minutes," she instructed.

The cat ran off, leaving a short trail of glowing mist in its wake.

"They can send messages, too?" Harry asked, momentarily forgetting their situation in awe of magic.

The Head of Gryffindor House looked at Harry and felt a bit of pride, seeing the impressed look on his face.

"Should we both survive this, I will teach you myself," McGonagall promised. "I need to start preparing the defenses before I retrieve my students, but for now," she said, her tone more serious, "don't you have something to find?"

"Oh, right- yeah," Harry remembered suddenly.

"Let's go," said Hermione, and the pair of them ran up the steps toward the Room of Requirement.

This was made increasingly difficult as they got higher up the stairs, however, as students who had heard the commotion or been informed began rushing down them.

Eventually, they made it back to the entrance of the hideout.

When they entered the room, they were surprised to find it much more crowded than before. Harry recognized only a few faces near the front of the group; Lupin was standing near Neville, Ron, Ginny, and Luna.

"Neville told us what happened," said Lupin, walking over to join Harry and Hermione. "We won't let him get to you, Harry."

Harry was stunned speechless for a few moments. They were going to protect him?

"Aberforth had contacted the Order when he found out what was going on," Neville explained. "The Order's going to help defend the castle while we get the younger ones out."

"We're with you, Harry," Lupin said, laying a hand on his shoulder and nodding to him.

Harry returned the nod, emotions swelling inside of him.

"Good luck," his parents' friend said to him before turning and addressing the group. "Order members- follow me to the Great Hall! We're to meet there to see what McGonagall and the others are planning."

With that, Lupin led a good-sized group of witches and wizards from the room. Harry looked at the remaining lot: there were a large number of people, mostly male, with red hair, Hermione, Neville and Luna.

"No, you will not," Harry heard a woman saying to Ginny in a loud voice. "You are under age!"

"I've been here helping out all this time!" Ginny retorted hotly.

"You're too young!" the woman said back, her temper just as fiery as Ginny's.

"Mum," Ron spoke up cautiously, "she has been helping a lot…" He trailed off seeing the look on his mother's face.

They continued to argue as Harry turned his attention to the calmer inhabitants of the room.

"As soon as that's sorted out," Neville nodded in the direction of Ginny, "we're going to head down to the Great Hall. A few more members of the Order are on their way, but then they're sealing up the entrance just to be sure."

"We'll wait to see if they get here, but then Harry and I need to-"

"Hermione-" Harry cut in, grabbing her arm as his vision swam, before he was consumed by thoughts and sights that were not his own.

_"Something isn't right... I can feel it. The wand is not performing the magic of legend- it is no different from the other wands I've used…" he spoke quietly to himself aloud, examining the wand in his cold, white hands._

_ "What happened? This has to be the Elder Wand. I took it right from Dumbledore's tomb. Why does it not truly obey me…?"_

_ For a long moment, he paced the room, before looking to the floor, at a large snake, coiled in the corner._

_ "Nagini," he spoke in a hiss, "you must stay here, where it is safe. Draco stopped responding days ago. I should have known he was not up to the task. He was too weak."_

_ "But someone knows my secret, and I must keep you safe."_

_ He was confident they would not find the diadem. But to be sure, he had to keep Nagini close._

_ With this, he used the wand to cast a spell, creating a magical cage around the snake._

_ "Nothing will be able to penetrate it. You will be safe," he vowed._

_ "By why does the wand refuse to allow me to unleash its full potential?" he asked._

_ A powerful, consuming rage was boiling just beneath the surface. He could feel it._

_ "What am I missing?" Then he turned back to the snake, as if suddenly hit by inspiration._

_ "Of course…" he said. "It does not obey me because I am not the one who killed its previous master… Severus… he is the true master of the Elder Wand. He killed Dumbledore."_

_ "Lucius," he said in a louder, commanding voice and a man with long blond hair walked into the room. He looked to be in bad shape and his hands were shaking._

_ "H-have you heard from my son?" the elder Malfoy stammered._

_ "No, I have not Lucius," he said. "Go and fetch Snape."_

_ "Snape, my Lord…?"_

_ "Yes, Snape. Now. There is a matter I need to discuss with him. Go."_

_ Lucius left the room swiftly._

_ "There is no other way. I must master the Elder Wand. When I have done that, I master Harry Potter. And I will master death."_

_ His mind briefly showed his plan: Snape coming to the isolated house where he was waiting, speaking with him. It was clear to him: Snape's death meant him becoming the true master of the Elder Wand._

Gasping, Harry came back to the present- _his _present- and his head was throbbing as he tried to sort out what he had just seen.

"Harry, are you alright?" Hermione asked the moment he opened his eyes.

He was sitting on the floor of the Room of Requirement, surrounded by the group who had yet to leave for the Great Hall. Hermione was kneeling down next to him, helping to hold him up.

"Voldemort- he's… in some building in Hogsmeade- the snake- it-"

"Harry, slow down," said Hermione, trying to calm him.

His scar burned particularly painfully, and he reached up to hold his head, grimacing.

"What's wrong with him?" Ron asked in a worried tone.

"His scar," Hermione explained off-handedly, keeping her attention on Harry, "it bothers him sometimes. I'll stay with him, you should get down to the Great Hall," she told the others.

"The building- is there a deserted building in Hogsmeade- off by itself?" Harry asked.

"The Shrieking Shack," said Fred, or George.

"I need to get there, now," Harry said, standing.

"What? Why?" Hermione asked, looking confused.

"We know a quicker way to get there," one of the twins said.

"A secret passage linked to Hogwarts," the other added.

"How?" Harry asked, temporarily ignoring Hermione.

"I can take you," Ron offered. "They showed it to me once." He turned to Fred and George, "That way you guys can stick with the Order and everyone else."

Fred and George seemed fine with that. With a few parting words and looks at Harry, most of the Weasley family left for the Great Hall. As they exited, a long line of younger students could be seen waiting outside the secret entrance, led by several Order members.

"We've got to help get them out of here," said Neville.

"I can help you, Neville, since apparently I have to stay here," Ginny said the last part angrily toward Ron, Harry supposed since he was the only remaining member of her family in the vicinity.

"Fine," Ron retorted. "I suppose I'm taking Harry to the Shrieking Shack."

"Hermione," Harry said, turning to her, "you've got to get the diadem and destroy it. We're running out of time."

"What? We're splitting up? Why do you need to go to the Shrieking Shack, Harry? What's going on?" she asked, all in a rush.

Harry pulled her to the side as Neville and Ginny began helping to herd the scared younger students through the room and out the secret passage. Luna and Ron stood off to the other side of the room, waiting for them.

"Look," said Harry, speaking quickly and quietly, "Voldemort's got the Elder Wand, but it's not working right for him. He thinks it's because Snape is the one who killed Dumbledore. Apparently he had the Elder Wand and Voldemort stole it from his tomb. I have to try to stop him.

"But I don't have time to do everything. You've got to go and get the diadem. Take Luna with you. It'll be safer in here than out there anyway. You can get it as soon as the students are through the passage."

Hermione looked torn, but she couldn't argue; they were running out of time.

"How are you going to stop him?" she asked.

"I don't know yet, but I'll think of something," Harry said distractedly. "Oh, and I think the last Horcrux is his snake, Nagini- the one that attacked us in Godric's Hollow. He's keeping her with him and put her in a magical cage to protect her."

"The last Horcrux is his snake?" Hermione repeated, trying to keep up with the sudden rush of information.

"Yes, but look- I've got to go," Harry said.

Reluctantly, Hermione nodded, "Alright."

"Can I trust Ron?" asked Harry.

"I think so," Hermione answered. "I trust Ginny, and he's her brother."

Harry nodded. Their eyes met and they both paused for a moment, realizing that separating meant they wouldn't be facing the danger together.

Hermione stepped forward, grasping his arms.

"Promise me you won't do anything reckless," she said, her eyes still staring into his.

"I wouldn't do anything reckless unless I had to," he countered. It was the best he felt he could offer. "I will come back to the castle if I can and meet you somewhere. Once you destroy the diadem… don't do anything to get yourself into trouble."

She nodded and for a moment neither of them moved. Then she threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly. Harry returned the hug briefly before they pulled back, ready to return to her friends.

"You sure you want to do this?" Harry asked Ron.

Ron nodded.

"I'll get you where you need to go," he said. "But it would help if we used your cloak."

"Right," Harry said, getting the cloak out of the backpack he had used when he left Hogwarts. He also took out the snitch and put it into his pocket, not sure why, but wanting it with him sort of like a good luck charm.

Harry then handed the backpack to Hermione, leaving the Sword of Gryffindor and the remains of the other Horcruxes inside. When she took it, he turned to Ron.

"Let's go," said Harry.

Without another word, the two edged around the students still waiting to leave and out of the room, into the chaotic castle.

Hermione's eyes followed him out of the room.

"He is very brave," Luna commented. "I bet he would have been in Gryffindor."

A hint of a smile tugged at Hermione's lips.

"I think so, too."

"Does he know how you feel?" the girl asked as plainly as if she were asking about the weather.

"Wh-what?" Hermione stammered.

Luna simply smiled at her friend mysteriously.

"If he doesn't, I would tell him soon," she suggested.

Hermione looked away, trying to hide the blush forming across her face.

"Well, we should come up with a plan- for finding the diadem," Hermione said, trying to change the subject as they waited for everyone to leave the Room of Requirement.


	35. The Hanged Man's Promise

Sorry for the wait, but here's the next chapter! It's a lot longer than most, and I wasn't sure of the best way to portray parts of it, so I really hope you guys like it.

This chapter in particular has some pretty close similarities (as my story has off and on thoughout) to the books, so I wanted to say again that anything you recognize is the wonderful work of J.K. Rowling and not my own. Thanks!

* * *

**Chapter 35: The Hanged Man's Promise**

The grounds of Hogwarts were dark as Harry followed Ron out of the castle. On their way out, they had passed a group of Order members, accompanied by a few of the older students, heading for a spot on the perimeter to hold off the impending Death Eater forces. Harry wondered where Ron was taking him, but tried to keep the suspicion out of his mind as he led them in the direction of the forest.

The grip he had on Draco's wand under the cloak was so tight Harry could faintly feel his heartbeat in his fingers.

"Over there," Ron said, coming to a stop and indicating a spot in front of them.

Harry narrowed his eyes, trying to see what he was gesturing to in the moonlight. The only thing he could see was an extremely large willow tree.

"There's a tunnel under that tree, in the roots" Ron explained quietly. "But we need to hit a spot on the trunk or it'll knock us clean out of there."

Harry gave Ron a confused look that he didn't seem to notice. He wasn't sure if Ron meant for him to understand what he was talking about or not. After waiting in silence for several moments, with Ron frowning at the tree, Harry spoke up.

"Sorry?"

"Huh?" Ron started, as if forgetting there was someone with him in his concentration. "Oh, right- you need to hit a spot near the base of the tree, otherwise it goes nuts and attacks you if you get too close."

Harry blinked, not sure how to respond to an attacking tree.

His eyes drifted upward, and he noticed that the tree did seem to be moving more than the light breeze surrounding them warranted. It suddenly looked much more ominous.

"I think I see it," Ron said, "but I've got to hit it…"

Harry pulled attention from the tree and looked at Ron as his eyes scanned the ground around the tree. He pointed his wand to a broken twig lying near the trunk.

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

With a swish and a flick, the twig floated up into the air. Ron directed it toward the tree and jabbed it into what Harry sincerely hoped was the correct spot.

Instantly, the movement of the tree slowed to a stop as if it was frozen in time. Now that the tree posed no threat, Ron walked forward slowly. Harry hesitated, unconvinced that the tree would remain harmless, but if he wanted to stay under the cloak, he had to move forward.

When Ron showed him the small, earthy opening around the roots, Harry offered to go first, so Ron crouched down and allowed the cloak to slip off of him as Harry crawled into the tunnel.

Even with his wand lit, it simply illuminated dark walls of dirt, and despite his fear that this might be a trap, Harry found his mind wandering.

_I hope Hermione's found the diadem by now._

Eventually, the passage began to slope upward and Harry hesitated, sensing that they were near their destination.

"It's just up there," Ron whispered from somewhere behind him.

"You should go back," said Harry suddenly. "I've got it from here."

"Are you mental? You expect me to just go on back and leave you here by yourself while You-Know-Who's likely right there?"

Deciding that they didn't have time to argue about it, Harry whispered, "Nox," and the light emanating from his wand disappeared.

Crawling forward as quietly as he could manage, scared that his shallow breathing or thundering heartbeat would give him away, Harry neared the end of the tunnel. Voices drifted to his ears as he got closer, and Harry found that the end of the passage was blocked by a large crate. Leaning against one side of the wall, Harry looked through the small space around the edge of the crate, peering into the room ahead.

He could see the large snake, Nagini, floating in the magical cage Voldemort had created to protect one of his remaining links to life.

"I regret what must happen, Severus, but it is the only way," Voldemort's voice spoke from within the room.

"My Lord!" Snape objected, and Harry saw his face. A shiver went up Harry's spine. It looked pale white and lifeless already.

What was he supposed to do- Voldemort was right there?

Movement caught Harry's eyes and he saw the magical cage moving forward, advancing on Snape. In seconds, his upper body was enclosed in the cage with the snake.

"Kill."

The hiss caused Harry to shiver again, and all he could do was watch as the snake bit down on Snape, near the junction of his neck and shoulder.

An awful scream of agony followed, which left Harry shaken.

Without another word, Voldemort left the room, bringing Nagini, still in the protective cage, with him.

Somehow, Harry sensed that he was headed to the Forbidden Forest to wait out the rest of the hour before burning a path through Hogwarts to find him if he did not turn himself in.

Pointing his wand at the crate blocking his path, Harry hurriedly levitated it out of the way. He pulled himself up into the room, pausing for a moment as he stood, staring at the dying man who he had despised for so long.

Snape had always treated him with exceptional disdain and loathing, but the memory of when he'd overheard Snape talking Bellatrix out of forcing Harry to kill a prisoner entered his mind as he approached his summer potions instructor.

Slowly, Harry removed the invisibility cloak, looking down at Snape's black eyes as he gasped for breath. Realizing that Snape was trying to speak, Harry knelt down next to him, trying his hardest to ignore the blood spilling from the man's neck.

"Take it."

From Snape's eyes, a silvery substance was leaking out, and with a jolt, Harry realized what it was; it looked extremely similar to the substance in the pensieve Dumbledore had left him in his will, full of memories. Harry panicked for a second, not sure what to do, when Ron handed him a small flask.

Not pausing to ask questions, Harry took the container with shaking hands and guided the memories flowing from Snape into it with his wand.

"Find the… headmaster's office…," Snape struggled to tell him. "Dumbledore… a pensieve…"

Not knowing what else to do, Harry nodded.

"Look… at… me…" Snape whispered, in a tone Harry had never before heard him use.

His green eye found Snape's. Within seconds, the black eyes looking back at him became dull and empty.

For some time, Harry stayed kneeling next to Snape, silent and still.

Without warning, a cold voice spoke and Harry jumped up and swirled around, grasping the flask and Draco's wand tightly. But there was no one there, and Harry realized that this must have been what happened before when Voldemort sent the message to Hogwarts.

"Your hour is up," the voice spoke as if right next to him, and Harry shuddered involuntarily as the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. "My followers will wait no longer. I command my forces to begin their assault on Hogwarts. Find Harry Potter and bring him to me, alive. Spare no one else."

In the distance, from somewhere far outside the Shrieking Shack, Harry heard a muffled war cry and the yells and howls of a small army. Several seconds was all it took for Harry to run through the list of allies he knew Voldemort to have in his mind: dementors, giants, werewolves.

"Harry Potter, I now speak to you. I shall wait one more hour in the Forbidden Forest, should you choose to turn yourself in. Now every minute you hide like a coward, rather than facing me yourself, those protecting you will die. If at the end of that hour, you have still not come to me, I shall join the fight myself and I shall find you. And along the way, I shall punish every last man, woman, and child who has tried to conceal you from me."

Harry felt cold and numb, Voldemort's harsh words still echoing in his ears: _every minute you hide like a coward, rather than facing me yourself, those protecting you will die._

"W-we've got to get back to the castle," Ron's voice broke through Harry's thoughts suddenly, "to Dumbledore's old office."

Harry frowned and the events that occurred before Voldemort's second message came rushing back to him.

"Right- yeah- let's go."

"I'll take you there," said Ron, leading Harry back through the small tunnel. "We'd better hurry."

They crawled through the passage silently, but Harry's mind was already back at Hogwarts, wondering how long they could hold off the Death Eaters, what protection they had in place, if all the younger students had made it out and if Hermione was alright…

As they neared the exit by the roots of the enormous willow tree, Harry heard more clearly the sounds of battle. He could faintly hear the shouts of spells and crashes and screams. His stomach twisted into a tight knot as Voldemort's words reached him again: _Spare no one else…_

Finally, they emerged from beneath the tree, carefully making sure they were both covered by the cloak. Harry's eyes swept the grounds of Hogwarts, now a battlefield. There were small groups fighting in several areas scattered outside, none too close to them.

One battle caught Harry's attention and he strained to see in the darkness. Dawn was approaching, but the sun had yet to rise, so there wasn't much visibility. He saws flashes of a man's face as spells flew by him and from his own wand.

Then he heard his voice, and despite the distance, Harry was sure who it was. Without thinking, he rushed forward to help, slipping out from under the cloak.

"Harry!" Ron called after him, loud enough for him to hear but quiet enough not to alert anyone else. Harry ignored him, glad it was still dark so that no one saw him approaching.

A single man was fighting two masked Death Eaters, managing to hold off both, but making progress against neither.

Harry shot a spell when he saw his chance, and one of the Death Eaters fell, stunned. In his momentary confusion, the other Death Eater was taken down as well.

Light from the wand of the man who remained standing shone brightly, and Harry saw Remus Lupin send him a smile of thanks before turning back to the Death Eaters to make sure they wouldn't be returning to the fight any time soon.

Harry dashed back to Ron, who met him in the middle and threw the cloak back over him.

"Sorry," Harry hastily apologized for holding them up, "let's get to the headmaster's office."

They hurried forward as quickly as they could while both staying safely under the cloak. Harry once again found himself wondering where Hermione was and if she and Luna had been able to locate and destroy the diadem.

After stopping briefly to avoid what appeared to be a fight between two giants, Harry and Ron made it to the castle entrance. Thankfully, none of the Death Eaters seemed to have made it that far yet, and Ron slipped out of the cloak to get someone to let them in.

Inside the castle, people dashed by them, and every once and a while Harry heard crashes and shouting. Twice he and Ron had to nearly dive out of the way to stop someone from running right into them as they tried to stay hidden under the cloak.

As he followed Ron, his eyes darted around, finding few familiar faces.

"It's just through there," Ron said, panting slightly from their trip. "You just need the password…"

Harry thought for a second, remembering Snape's final words to him, and then said, "Dumbledore!"

The gargoyle standing right in front of them moved to the side, revealing a spiral staircase which Harry assumed led to the headmaster's office.

"Go on," Ron told him, "I'm going to go find Ginny and make sure she's alright."

Harry nodded, "Thanks, Ron."

Ron nodded and took off back down the hallway in search of his sister.

Regarding the spiral staircase in front of him, Harry took a deep breath and walked forward, hearing the gargoyle move back into place behind him as he climbed the staircase.

For a moment, he stopped in awe of the headmaster's office. There was a large desk and all sorts of interesting magical objects, and more frames hanging on the wall than he could easily count, all of which were currently empty.

A distant bang brought Harry's mind back into focus. Remembering why he was here in the first place, Harry looked around for the pensieve. Spotting it, he moved further into the room to where it was stored, and pulled the vial with Snape's memories out of his pocket.

Pouring the strange substance into the pensieve, Harry took a moment to steady himself before leaning forward and falling into the memories of a man he had grown up wishing he would never see again.

* * *

Getting his bearings, Harry looked around to try to make sense of the scene and froze. A few feet from him was a young girl with red hair and eyes exactly like his own.

_Mom?_

"Lily, don't do it!" the girl next to her shrieked.

Lily was swinging higher and higher until finally she let go when she was so high in the air it made Harry's stomach drop. But she didn't fall to the ground. Instead, she laughed and seemed to float, coming to land neatly on the asphalt.

The girls began to argue, and Harry watched as a young version of his mother showed the other girl, whom he now realized was his Aunt Petunia, more of her magical talents.

Without warning, a young boy leapt out from behind a bush off to Harry's right and Harry was so surprised he jumped and shouted. Thankfully no one could hear or see him, since he was in Snape's memories. Then it seemed to come back to him. He had been so caught up in seeing his mother, he'd forgotten where he was: in _Snape's_ memories.

Refocusing on the conversation, Harry listened and then watched as the girls gave the young Snape a pair of disapproving looks before turning and walking away.

The scene dissolved and reformed several times, showing Harry different snippets of Snape's younger life, and his mother's. He felt guilty, knowing that these were the memories of the man who had just been killed, but Harry found himself focusing more on his mother than Snape.

As he listened to the conversation, he watched the reactions and expressions play across her face, trying almost desperately to learn more about the girl who had become his mother. It hurt him to see her and not know her; he really knew nothing of her personality, her likes, her beliefs. The only things he knew for certain was that she had gone to Hogwarts, been sorted into Gryffindor, and had later joined the fight against Voldemort.

_She was a muggle-born. How did I not figure it out before? Petunia was her sister and she wasn't a witch. She never even mentioned magic and told me my parents died in a car crash. Then the Death Eaters… of course they never said she was muggle-born… they had me believing she and my father were against muggles and muggle-borns._

Harry hadn't been paying very close attention to the scene currently playing out around him, so he was surprised to hear a voice other than his mother's or Snape's speak up in the small compartment. Harry turned, and he saw two boys sitting in the same compartment.

Shock ran through him as he recognized a young Sirius- and then his father, who looked much like he had years ago.

He listened as his father spoke of Gryffindor, and watched as his mother and Snape left the compartment after Sirius insulted the boy hoping to be in Slytherin.

With some excitement, he watched his parents' sorting, despite already knowing where they would both end up. He noticed that Snape had also gotten his wish: Slytherin.

The scene changed again…

Lily and Snape were walking ahead of him, and Harry rushed to catch up. He noticed quickly that they were much taller than in the last memory and wondered how many years had passed. When he caught up, he realized that they seemed to be arguing.

Lily was stating her strong disapproval of some of Snape's friends, many names which Harry recognized as future Death Eaters. Snape tried to turn the conversation around by pointing out the mischief his father, whom they both referred to as 'Potter' he noticed, got up to with his friends.

Harry listened on as Snape tried to incriminate Lupin, and felt a rush of anger toward the lanky, dark-haired boy.

Then Lily said that James had saved Snape by the tunnel near the Whomping Willow, and Snape completely lost his composure, stuttering and clearly at a loss.

He went on insulting James, and Harry frowned until he caught Snape saying his father fancied her. A second later, Lily called James and arrogant toerag.

This left Harry even more confused about his parents' relationship.

_So, my dad liked my mom for years, but she thought he was an arrogant jerk? Then how did they end up together…?_

When the scene changed, Harry watched his father lift Snape into the air, tormenting him. Guilt and doubt spread through him as he watched his father's actions as a teen. Seemingly out of nowhere, Lily ran in to defend Snape, but he was livid and humiliated and lashed out at her, too.

Harry watched as Snape called his mother a Mudblood, his chest tightening involuntarily, knowing he had used the word before, too.

When the scene changed again, Snape was trying to apologize, but Lily wasn't having it. She accused him and his friends of wanting to be Death Eaters, which Snape didn't deny.

_So my mom and Snape were friends since they were kids, but their friendship ended because he wanted to be a Death Eater and she was against Dark Magic and Voldemort?_

The next scene shocked Harry more than all those before it put together.

An older Snape, now around his age or a few years older, approached a man he recognized as Albus Dumbledore. Dumbledore also looked much younger than Harry had ever seen him, but he knew who it was instantly.

Snape spoke, begged, pleading with Dumbledore to protect Lily. To Harry's surprise, he offered Dumbledore anything in return for her safety.

When the scene changed again, Snape was hunched over in a chair in the headmaster's office, sobbing with such pain that Harry could feel his agony. And in that instant, Harry knew.

Snape had loved his mother.

He spoke to Dumbledore, who convinced him that if he truly loved Lily, Snape should watch over her son, Harry.

The scene shifted to years later, though the two men were in the same office.

"You know something, Severus," Dumbledore said, his bright blue eyes searching Snape behind half-moon spectacles.

"I do," Snape replied, and Harry could immediately tell from his tone and the slight hesitation that he had some reason for caution.

"Have you found the boy?" Dumbledore asked.

"I know that he is alive," said Snape carefully.

"You have not forgotten our conversation…?"

"I have not," Snape answered immediately. "I will do what I can, but no one must know."

"You have been sworn to secrecy?" the older man asked, touching his fingertips together as his elbows rested on his desk.

"The Unbreakable Vow," Snape confirmed. "Despite my years of service, they do not seem to trust anyone with information about this."

"I understand, Severus."

"It is like seeing his arrogant father all over again," Snape said, contempt now apparent in his voice.

"You see what you wish to see," Dumbledore replied smartly.

And the scene once again dissolved.

They were again in the same room, and Snape immediately began scolding Dumbledore for putting on a ring. Harry jolted, seeing Dumbledore's blackened and dead hand, realizing that the ring must have been the ring Horcrux Dumbledore had mentioned in his own memories.

Snape was saying how he could have spared Dumbledore longer had he been contacted sooner, but Dumbledore seemed surprisingly indifferent when Snape gave his estimated prognosis: a year to live at best, no chance of curing the curse.

Then Dumbledore moved on to another topic, which Harry listened to closely, extremely curious.

"I refer to the plan Lord Voldemort has constructed to have young Malfoy murder me."

Harry jolted, having not heard of this.

_How did I not know about this? I lived at Malfoy Manor…_

Flashes came back to him of Draco acting strangely, different, less arrogant- afraid even. At the time, Harry had believed it because of Voldemort's increasing power and his father's slow but steady fall from favor. Now Harry looked at these memories in a new light, with increased interest.

_Was this really why Draco was so shaken…?_

Harry listened as Dumbledore guessed, apparently correctly, that should Draco fail, Snape was to kill Dumbledore instead. Then, to Harry's shock, the old man asked him to go through with it.

_They'd planned it?!_

Snape didn't seem to like this idea, but Dumbledore was insistent.

The scene faded and changed as Snape's irritated voice came through.

"What are you leaving for the boy? Why do you trust Potter with information… you trust him… you do not trust me. You have never even met the boy!" Snape was obviously angry, but keeping himself in check, though his voice was raised more than normal.

"It is not about trust, Severus. He needs to receive the information necessary to fulfill his destiny. And unfortunately, it seems as though I will not live long enough to have the pleasure of meeting him."

Snape snorted, sneering slightly.

"Why not just tell me?"

"A smart man never puts all his eggs in one basket, especially not in a basket which often dangles from the arm of the enemy."

"Which I do on your orders!"

"And you do it extremely well. I do not underestimate the danger you put yourself in by working so closely with Voldemort. To give him useful information, but withhold the most important details is a job I would entrust to nobody but you."

"Yet you confide much more in a boy you do not even know! Surely you remember the incident I told you about? Last summer when I was being forced to attempt to teach the boy potions-"

"Yes, Severus, I remember."

And Harry immediately knew what they were talking about. Once during a potions lesson, Harry's scar had started throbbing and he had seen, through the eyes of Voldemort, him duel and ultimately murder a woman he later learned was Amelia Bones.

The conversation went on and finally ended when Dumbledore told Snape to come to his office again later that night, saying he would no longer doubt his trust in him.

The office reformed, and Harry could tell by the darkness outside that night had fallen some time ago.

Everything in the room was still except Dumbledore, who was walking around the chair in which Snape sat.

"Harry must not know until the very last moment, not until it is completely necessary."

Harry stared at the scene, wanting desperately to know what Snape had just discovered.

"Listen carefully, Severus. There will be a time when Lord Voldemort will seem to fear for the life of his snake as well as his own, if I am correct."

At this, Harry did remember something in Dumbledore's memories suggesting a snake as a possible Horcrux, but Harry hadn't believed the theory, then, and with all the other possibilities and information, he had overlooked it.

"You mean Nagini?" Snape asked, looking completely confused.

"Yes. If there comes a time when Voldemort seems to fear for the life of his snake, and he begins to keep it closely with him, I think then it will be safe to tell Harry."

"Tell him what?" Snape asked.

And Harry nearly stopped breathing so as to make sure he caught every word. He had no doubt that this was what Snape had needed to tell him; why he had given him these memories.

"Tell him that when Voldemort tried to kill him as a boy, and Lily used herself as a shield, dying to save him, the Killing Curse rebounded upon Voldemort and a piece of his very soul was ripped from his body. It then latched onto the only living soul left in the building. Part of Lord Voldemort lives inside Harry, and it is that which inadvertently allows him to glimpse into the mind of Voldemort. While the fragment of his soul, unknown to Voldemort, remains protected by Harry, Voldemort cannot die."

Harry stood frozen in shock, feeling almost as though he was falling though his body had not moved.

"So the boy… he must die?" asked Snape evenly.

"And Voldemort must do it himself, Severus. That is essential."

There was a long pause of silence.

"All these years… I thought I was protecting him for her. I tried… tried to stop their corruption of him," he said quietly, more to himself than Dumbledore.

"I must trust what little you have told me about him, Severus, and that he is truly his parents' son. For if we are wrong, it would be disastrous. I must put faith in the fact that when he does set out to meet his death, it will be the end of Voldemort."

"You have had me try to keep him alive simply so that he can die at the right moment?"

Snape looked horrified as Dumbledore gazed at him solemnly.

They continued to talk, but Harry heard nothing else of their conversation. He was vaguely aware of Snape casting a Patronus, but he did not know why; he did not care.

After all this, after everything, he was meant to die…

The headmaster's office dissolved and this time reformed into a different scene. Snape was standing next to Harry, watching from the shadows as Draco disarmed Dumbledore.

Harry didn't think he had ever seen Draco look so shaken. His wand, which Harry now possessed, was pointed at the Headmaster, his arm unsteady. Malfoy was sweating, and sounded on the verge of tears as he spoke in a strangled voice.

Dumbledore responded and after a few moments, Draco began to lower his wand. Immediately, Snape swept out from the darkness. Harry noticed little else but the flash of green light leaving his wand and Dumbledore falling.

Next, the scene showed Snape back in the headmaster's office, talking to a portrait of Dumbledore on the wall.

"Potter nearly got himself killed- trying to act the hero like his father- ridiculous- if I hadn't knocked into Bellatrix's arm, she would have surely hit one of them," said Snape, speaking with a great deal of frustration.

"He did well, Severus. This shows that they have not truly corrupted his heart," the portrait of Dumbledore answered.

"How am I supposed to watch over him now? If he begins to openly oppose the Death Eaters, how am I to keep him alive?"

"I trust that you are capable. But he cannot realize that you have helped him. You must be sure that he receives the items left to him in my will."

Snape didn't look very pleased, but he answered, "I know."

Turning on his heel, Snape left the room. Harry rose out of the pensieve. He took several steps back before slowly sinking to his knees.


	36. Run

I am so sorry to everyone who has been reading and supporting this story. Unfortunately the last few weeks have been absolutely crazy, so I didn't have much time to write. I didn't want to rush it, especially in what will probably be the last few chapters, so I can only hope your wait was worthwhile. I will definitely be able to update more often again now that things have settled down. Thank you all so much for your wonderful reviews and continued support!

Also: Part of this chapter was inspired by the song 'Run' by Snow Patrol. Just wanted to give them credit. I think it's a great song, but whether or not you give it a try after the chapter is up to you. Of course anything else you recognize is by J.K. Rowling. Thanks again!

* * *

**Chapter 36: Run**

Everything in the world seemed to be closing in on Harry as he sat on the floor of the headmaster's office, staring ahead without really seeing.

Now he knew; he had to die.

In order to rid the world of Voldemort, the cost was his life. His parents had ultimately given their lives for this cause, and now it was his turn.

His heart was pounding forcefully in his chest, and he was very aware of every shallow breath that passed through his lips.

So much depended on him doing what Dumbledore had planned now, sacrificing himself willingly. While his mind was filled with doubts, his heart knew what he would do. Perhaps that is why it was beating so powerfully, to try to stop him.

"What will you do?" a voice suddenly asked.

The voice surprised Harry, but he was so caught up in the information he had just received that he didn't react immediately. He considered the question before worrying himself with who had asked it.

There was a short stretch of silence.

"I'm going to turn myself in," Harry answered, surprised that his voice sounded calm.

He felt numb, hollow. But part of him new this would be his choice and that it was the right one.

"You would have made a fine Gryffindor," the voice answered.

Harry's eyes drifted upward, and he found himself looking into a face he had never seen in person, but now knew well. He looked almost exactly as he had in Snape's memories, and some of his own.

Albus Dumbledore gazed at Harry for the first time, his bright eyes searching Harry's. Apparently, Dumbledore had decided to return to his painting in the headmaster's office amidst the attack on Hogwarts.

"A lovely lady in a painting by the corridor outside the headmaster's office was kind enough to let me know that someone had gotten the password correct and gone up the stairs. I thought it might be in my best interest to find out who had come here," Dumbledore explained.

"I must admit, while I had considered the possibility, I was surprised to see you, Harry."

"How did you know?" Harry asked suddenly. "How did you know what I'd just seen in the pensieve?"

"I did not know," Dumbledore answered calmly, "but often one is able to make quite accurate guesses based on the circumstances."

"For example, if I saw a student eat a white Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Bean, and afterward his face contorted into one of disgust, it would be reasonable to guess that he had picked one which tasted like sardines. Earwax is similar, but personally I don't find that nearly as offensive."

Harry understood his point in spite of the strange analogy. As he looked at Dumbledore, he realized something: even though it had been Dumbledore's plan all along, he was not going to push him to take the final step.

Maybe he should have been angry; maybe he should have hated this man for convincing him to follow his plan only to lead him to his death, but he found that he felt neither.

Instead, Harry felt a sense of acceptance.

He didn't want to die.

He was scared, but he was scared of the future, too. If he survived, what then? Sacrificing himself, dying to save the lives of others, that wasn't a bad way to go. But he also wanted a chance to live without the constraints that had bound him all of his life… the Dursleys, the Malfoys, the Death Eaters, and the one he could not escape until death: Voldemort.

Confusion swirled around in his head as his fears and uncertainty collided.

"Have you heard the tale of the three brothers?" Dumbledore asked interestedly.

"I have," Harry replied, being partially drawn out of his thoughts.

"Which one appeals most to you?"

Harry hesitated only a moment before answering.

"The Resurrection Stone."

Dumbledore nodded as if not surprised or displeased by this answer.

"What if I told you that it is already in your possession?"

"What?" Harry asked, shocked.

"It resides within the snitch I left to you in my will. Simply turn it in your palm three times."

Harry pulled the snitch out of his pocket and looked at it closely.

"'I open at the close'…" he muttered to himself, thinking quickly.

"Not here," said Dumbledore, "but soon. You will know when."

Harry nodded, pocketing the snitch again.

"Voldemort has the wand," said Harry. "He stole it from your tomb."

"Does it obey him?"

"Yes, but only as much as other wands he's used before. He thought it wasn't letting him use its full potential because he wasn't the one to kill you and take it from you."

"Am I correct in assuming that he then went after Snape, thinking that killing him would win over the wand's allegiance?"

Harry nodded.

"Voldemort had his snake kill him," said Harry.

"Do you know how the wand works for him now?" Dumbledore asked.

"No, but he's probably right- now that he's killed Snape, what's stopping it from-"

Dumbledore held up a hand from within the painting, and Harry stopped speaking.

"Wands choose their loyalty based on more than murder," Dumbledore explained. "No one knows exactly how or why wands choose certain witches and wizards, or why others may win their loyalty. But I have studied wandlore, and there have been many cases in which a wand becomes loyal to another after he or she defeats its master in a duel."

Harry listened, not sure where if he followed the brilliant man's line of thinking.

"I was disarmed before Snape performed the Killing Curse on me."

It took a few seconds to sink in, then, "Malfoy."

"Correct," Dumbledore said. "Young Mister Malfoy disarmed me before I died, meaning the wand could very well have been loyal to him."

Harry nodded.

Then something crossed his mind, shocking him. Back at Malfoy Manor, he had disarmed Draco one of the times they had escaped.

"I disarmed Draco, after that," Harry said hesitantly.

"Then it is likely you are the true master of the Elder Wand," Dumbledore said. "Meaning the others should be capable of defeating Voldemort once his remaining links to life have been broken."

Silence settled over them, and quickly, the reality of the situation came rushing back to Harry: what he had to do and how his time was so limited. Breathing once again became difficult as fear gripped him.

"I am sorry," Dumbledore spoke, and Harry was surprised how sincere the words sounded, "that it must end like this and that I could not tell you sooner. I regret not having the chance to know you in life."

Harry knew he had to go now. As he stayed here, people were dying. Good people, innocent people. He wouldn't let anyone else suffer.

Slowly, Harry rose to his feet. For several seconds, he met Dumbledore's penetrating stare before turning and letting his feet carry him out of the room. When he reached the exit, he wrapped his father's cloak around himself, hiding his presence. He descended the stairs and was surprised to find the hallway more chaotic that when he had been through there minutes ago.

How long had he been up there, in Snape's memories?

Suddenly, Harry felt more motivated to move quickly. If the hour was almost up, he didn't want to waste any more time.

With great effort, he tried to remain focused on his own task and the path ahead of him, but he found it difficult to stop his eyes from wandering to the battles going on around him. It seemed some of the Death Eaters had gotten into Hogwarts.

Walking past the Great Hall, Harry footsteps slowed. There were two wizards Harry did not recognize standing near the entrance, casting shield charms and stopping anyone from getting too close. Beyond them, in the large room, Harry could see several people lying down with others surrounding them.

Panic seized him as he realized that they might dead, casualties of the battle. For a few short moments, he stood frozen, trying desperately to see their faces, to glimpse who it was who had fallen. When the others within the room shifted and he caught sight of them, he realized that none of them looked familiar.

Voices came from behind him, and Harry had to move quickly to get out of the way. Several people were carrying in two more injured, and Harry felt his stomach drop as emotions rushed through him.

Tonks and Lupin.

The two guarding the door looked at one of the men carrying them. He shook his head, grimly.

The message was clear; they were dead.

Anger and guilt and sadness hit Harry hard.

His chest tightened uncomfortably, but he turned, nearly losing his footing, and forced himself to keep walking. He had to end this _now._ No one else would be hurt because of him; no one else would die. If only he had figured things out sooner, if he had done better, maybe they could have been saved…

His memories of them flashed through his mind with each step. Lupin's words tugged at Harry's heart: 'I hope that you will be a part of his life in the future, as well as ours.' Their son, Teddy… he would never know his parents...

Just before leaving the castle, Harry saw Neville and Luna. He was so consumed with the grief filling his thoughts that he probably wouldn't have noticed them if they hadn't been directly in his way. It seemed like they had stopped another Death Eater from getting into Hogwarts. The pair moved to the side to take cover until another enemy came along.

Harry was about to walk by them, intent on continuing to the forest, when a thought struck him. He quickly walked over to Luna, keeping the cloak on.

"Luna, it's Harry," he said quietly.

She and Neville, who had heard too since they were close together, jumped.

"Harry?" she whispered back.

"Did you get the diadem?"

"Yes, it is destroyed."

"And Hermione- is she…?" he couldn't get the words out. He was scared, terrified to ask. The sight of Tonks and Lupin was too fresh in his mind.

"Yes, she's alright," Luna answered. "I saw her just a minute ago."

"Okay, listen," Harry said, trying to keep his voice even and continue speaking normally as an intense feeling of relief washed over him, "you know Voldemort's snake?"

"Yeah," this time it was Neville who answered.

"Well, we've got to kill it. Hermione knows, but just in case…"

Words failed him. He couldn't face the possibility that something would happen to her, knowing in minutes he would no longer be there to protect her.

"Kill the snake?" Neville guessed.

Harry nodded, but it went unseen under the cloak.

"Kill the snake," Harry confirmed aloud.

"And look after Hermione," he added in a rush.

"Why, where are you going? You're not turning yourself in?" Neville asked, looking alarmed.

"No," Harry lied, glad his face and expression were still hidden, "of course not. I just have something I have to do. I just wanted to make sure."

"We'll watch out for her, Harry," Luna vowed.

A sense of gratitude toward both of them coursed through him; they had helped him and Hermione so much.

"Thanks," he said, feeling the simple word was inadequate but not knowing what else to say.

Neville was about to speak, but as he opened his mouth a spell hit him without warning and he dropped to the ground. Luna was quick to react, her wand protecting the three of them as another jet of light streaked toward them.

"Go," she whispered. "We will be alright."

Harry wanted so much not to leave them to defend themselves, but he already saw others coming to their aid. Forcefully telling himself that they would be fine, he refocused on what he needed to do.

It was still dark as Harry stepped outside, but there was more visibly than before, signaling the approach of dawn.

To avoid the duels and fights taking place on the grounds, Harry had to keep close to the lake as he made his way to the forest. As he walked forward, his thoughts began to return to what he was about to do. He could feel his heart beating; it was strong and very much alive in his chest. More so than ever before, he was aware of everything he felt: how his legs moved with each step, how the ground felt beneath his shoes, the clothes on his back, the glasses resting on his nose. Draco's wand was still in his hand.

Quickly his thoughts turned to those who had lost their lives: his parents long ago, Dumbledore, Sirius, Colin, Draco, Dobby, Snape, Tonks and Lupin, and possibly others lying in the Great Hall. He would be added to that list soon. Strangely, a sense of pride filled him as he thought of the others on the list. Most of them were Gryffindors and people he had come to respect.

He had never really known Colin or Dumbledore, but the others he had. His parents, though he didn't remember them, were a part of him. Sirius, his godfather, seemed like a good man and had helped Harry feel connected to his parents. Draco, who for years had longed to be a Death Eater, had a change of heart when he was actually accepted and asked to do evil; in the end, he had died to help right his wrongs and end Voldemort.

Dobby, the house elf that had been his first friend, had also died bravely, saving him and Hermione. Harry had grown up disliking Snape more than most Death Eaters, but after seeing his memories, he wasn't sure how to feel about the man. One thing he was sure of, though, was that Snape was an extremely brave man.

While they had lived with Tonks, Harry had grown to like her a lot. She was funny, clumsy, kind, a loyal member of the Order and often looked as though she had a bit of mischief up her sleeve. And she had just had her first child not long ago.

Losing Lupin was something that affected Harry deeply. In the months since his eyes had been opened to the truth, Lupin had become the closest thing Harry had ever remembered having to a father figure.

Soon he would join them.

Even sooner, he would be able to see and speak to his parents for the first time. He felt the snitch in his pocket, waiting impatiently to be opened.

"Harry, wait."

Harry froze. Had it been anyone else's voice, it might not have pulled him out of his thoughts, but he was much too aware of hers.

"Take off the cloak," her voice requested quietly from somewhere behind him. With only a slight hesitation, he did as she asked, letting his father's cloak fall to the ground.

She walked around him, coming to stand right in front of him.

"I'm not going to let you turn yourself in," she told him firmly.

He could see the determination in her brown eyes, behind it only sadness.

"How did you find me?" Harry asked, avoiding her statement for the time being.

"Luna said she'd seen you. You left me the map."

Her explanation was short and to the point, brisk, concise.

When he didn't respond, wouldn't look at her, he could almost feel her frustration.

"Harry, you can't do this. It isn't going to solve anything. We can-"

"I'm the last Horcrux."

Hermione immediately stopped speaking, stopped breathing. A sharp intake of breath told him that she understood.

"There weren't six Horcruxes; there were seven. Voldemort doesn't know it, but he made another- accidentally… me."

Silence hung in the air between them as the noise on the rest of the dark grounds seemed far away.

"No," she whispered finally. "Harry, you- you can't."

Harry finally raised his eyes to look at her and instantly regretted doing so. Her eyes were filled with tears and her expression looked broken, desperate.

"I'm sorry," Harry said, averting his eyes from her face again.

A second later she was hugging him tightly. His arms quickly wrapped around her and held her closer.

"I'll go with you," she whispered against him.

"No," Harry said without hesitation, moving back to look at her. "You can't. No one else is going to die for me. I need to believe that you are going to survive this. That you're going to be happy and able to live without fear."

They were quickly running out of time.

Harry could tell that she wanted to say something but was struggling with finding the right words.

"After all this time…" she started, a few tears now beginning to slip out and spill down her cheeks. "I- I can't imagine not being with you- not seeing your eyes, hearing your voice…"

"Hermione…"

Harry took a breath to steady himself, feeling his pounding heartbeat speeding up in his chest as he fought to hold in his own emotions. His hands gripped her arms a bit tighter.

"Even if you can't hear my voice, I'll be right beside you, always."

The promise in his words surprised her.

Her eyes held his intense gaze for several seconds before she leaned forward and kissed him, her lips firmly against his.

It was completely different than the first. Before, it had been hesitant, fleeting, and unsure; this time it was wholehearted, lasting, and full of meaning.

Harry responded to the kiss, one of his hands sliding up her arm to rest against her neck while the other wrapped around her back. He felt her hands, which had still been at his sides from their hug, slide around his back also, pulling him closer to her.

The emotions whirling around inside him and the things he was feeling from the kiss were enough to make him feel light-headed.

Much too soon, Harry forced himself to pull back, knowing their time was limited. Somehow he had managed to remember that there was a war going on around them while the girl in his arms took over his senses.

His bright green eyes took in her flushed face, trying to memorize every detail. When his eyes dropped to her lips involuntarily, he noticed that she looked a little breathless and dazed. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips, realizing that he probably looked similar or worse.

But as much as it hurt him, he knew this couldn't last.

He had no choice; he had to leave her.

But in the end, hopefully it would save her.

Harry reminded himself that many other lives also depended on him, and that he didn't have time for a long goodbye- he had to go.

His eyes looked into hers, and it hit him so strongly he almost couldn't hold her gaze. What he felt for her was stronger than he had realized.

And how he would miss those eyes…

"I have to go," Harry whispered, his tone laced with regret.

Hermione nodded, no longer trusting her voice.

"Don't be afraid. You will be alright, and it will be over soon," Harry told her, trying his hardest to keep his voice even.

He pulled her into his arms again, giving her a quick hug, before stepping back. Reaching down, he picked up his father's cloak.

Their eyes met one last time before Harry turned and walked away. He couldn't look back now; he knew that if he did, he might change his mind.

Watching him walk away was the most difficult thing Hermione had ever done. Tears flowed silently down her face as it really hit her that she would never see him again. For months they have been together almost constantly, and they had become so close…


	37. Invictus

Not totally sure this is where I want to end the chapter since it's pretty short, but I really wanted to give you guys something to read sooner. I will add another chapter next update, but if that one also ends up short, I may combine them later- just a heads up. Thank you so much for all the support! Let me know what you think. I hope you like how I handled this part of the story.

P.S. The chapter title comes from the poem by William Ernest Henley, if anyone was interested.

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**Chapter 37: Invictus**

Once he was pretty far into the forest, Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out the golden snitch given to him by Dumbledore. Slowly, he raised the winged ball to his lips.

"I am about to die," he whispered against the surface of the snitch.

When he brought it away from his face to examine it, the ball opened in his hands, revealing a small stone. Doing as Dumbledore had instructed, he turned it over in his hand three times.

He hadn't really been expecting it to work. Maybe that was why a sense of shock filled him as he stood staring at his parents for the first time.

They were not real, not quite _alive_- of that he was sure. But they didn't look like ghosts, either. Instead, they appeared to be somewhere between the two, but they were there and that was enough.

Four stood before him, but he hardly noticed the others at first.

Harry's green eyes took in his mother's appearance eagerly, trying to solidify her features into his memory as if he feared she would fade away. So many years he had longed to see his mother; speak with her, hear her advice, get to know her. She smiled at him, waiting until finally he looked into her eyes which so perfectly reflected his own to speak.

"Harry," she said his name gently, "We're so proud of you."

Moisture instantly blurred his vision as he tried to keep his composure.

"But, I've- I've done so many horrible things… he came back because of me," Harry protested, unable to believe that his mother could truly think that.

"You were forced to help them," his father spoke up. He looked a lot like Harry, with messy hair and glasses. "We're so sorry- about everything you've been through… but you've found your way."

"You have become a wonderful man," Lily told him. "You're almost there."

"What's it like," Harry asked suddenly, "being dead?"

James smiled.

"It's not so bad when you're with people you love," he said, glancing at Lily fondly.

"Does it hurt?" the question seemed childish, especially after everything he had endured, but who wouldn't wonder?

"Not a bit," answered another voice that belonged to neither his father nor his mother. "I didn't even realize what had happened 'til I saw James!"

Harry's eyes found a grinning Sirius, who had answered. Next to him, was Remus; he had been so focused on his parents, whom he had never seen, that he hadn't really noticed the others. Both were clearly younger than Harry had ever seen them, and they looked content, happy.

But Harry's mind quickly turned to darker thoughts.

"Remus, your son…" Harry said in a strained voice. "I'm so sorry…"

He couldn't help feeling responsible for the fact that Teddy would grow up not knowing his parents, just as he had.

"It is a shame, but he will know why we died, and I hope that someday he will understand. He will live in a safer world once this is over." He paused for a moment before adding, "We named you his godfather."

Harry's head snapped up, his eyes quickly finding Lupin's. No words came to him, and Remus continued.

"Dora and I agreed that you would be right for the job."

At Harry's stunned expression, the group laughed lightly.

"And of course, we made Hermione the godmother. With as well as the two of you work together, we really couldn't see it any other way," he explained, shooting Harry a meaningful look that made him feel sure he had missed something.

Pushing images of Hermione caring for a young Teddy, alone, and telling him stories about them out of his mind, Harry continued with difficulty.

"But now he won't have me, either…" said Harry, his tone filled with regret.

"Don't worry. Since Hermione is still so young, Andromeda will take care of Teddy. But I'm sure that Hermione will make sure he knows all about the three of us and the sacrifices we made."

"They will be safe," Lily assured him.

It was time to go, Harry could sense it. They were all looking at him, calm, supportive, expectant. He took a deep breath.

"Stay with me?"

For most of his life, he had grown up without support or comfort, but he felt he needed it now, in his last moments.

"We will," said James.

"Will they see you?" Harry asked.

"Don't worry, only you can see us," said Sirius. "We'll be right here."

Harry nodded, trying to will his fears away and be brave.

_Soon, I'll be with them. It's all I've ever wanted… to be with my parents, get to know them, to not feel so trapped…_

His eyes found Lily's and he stepped closer to her, between his parents. Harry pulled on his invisibility cloak, somehow knowing that the four of them would still know where he was.

They turned to walk with him as he numbly forced one foot in front of the other, heading deeper into the forest.

_I can do this. Soon, it will all be over. They'll beat him and then these people can live in peace. No one else will have to go through what I went through. No one else will have to die._

Hearing movement off to his right and ahead of where he was Harry froze, listening carefully. He sensed the others stop with him.

A man's voice drifted through the trees toward them, but it was too distant for Harry to make out the words. Another voice answered from what Harry could hear, straining to focus on the sound. As the voices moved further away, Harry followed, guessing they would take him where he needed to go.

After following the voices for what felt like a very long time, the trees ahead began thinning considerably. There was a clearing, and Harry could see several dark figures. He crouched down slightly, peering at them from behind a large tree.

_Death Eaters._

So Voldemort had chosen this alcove to hide and wait?

"The hour is nearly up," one of the Death Eaters said, sounding nervous.

"I had hoped he would come, but it seems… I was wrong," Voldemort's chilling voice answered. "He is more of a coward than I anticipated."

At this, the small group of Death Eaters laughed cautiously.

Harry stood, gently letting the Resurrection Stone slip through his fingers, knowing that they would still be with him. Hastily, he pulled off the cloak and stuffed it under his clothes, wanting to keep it close. Taking a few strides forward, Harry spoke.

"I'm not a coward!" he said, putting as much courage and defiance into his voice as he could muster.

Every head in the clearing turned to look at him, but Harry saw only Voldemort. Cruel, angry red eyes found him, and the Dark Lord's lips curled into a smirk.

"Harry Potter," he said, looking at Harry curiously.

Everything in the forest seemed to still, waiting with a sense of immense tension to see what would happen next.

Voldemort raised his wand toward Harry, who stood defenseless in front of him. In the face of death, Harry's thoughts quickly jumped to Hermione: her voice, her smile, her eyes…

Voldemort spoke the curse, but the words sounded distant in Harry's ears, as if his senses had already begun to fade. A jet of green light flew at him, and in the last second, he closed his eyes, ready to accept his fate.

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Gradually, a sense of weightlessness left him and the heaviness and awareness of every sore muscle, every fatigued limb, returned. Opening his eyes, Harry found himself surrounded by fog. Looking around, he saw that he was standing on some sort of platform, and to his right and left were stairs. It looked similar to the Grand Staircase in Hogwarts, except none of the staircases were moving and everything looked misty and light.

The path to his right led upward, with a destination he could not see through all of the fog. It was the same to his left, but the steps led down.

Harry was confused only a moment before he inexplicably knew what two paths lay before him. And when he looked back up to the right, he saw his parents waiting partway up the stairs. They smiled at him warmly, welcoming him, inviting him to join them. Just behind his parents, he noticed Lupin and Sirius, then Tonks, and Dobby next to them, short and waving, his bat-like ears wobbling slightly.

The corners of his lips rose in response to seeing them; they were content, and he knew he could be, too, if he joined them.

Without much thought, he glanced to the left, but down the staircase, he saw nothing but fog. His eyes lingered, as if waiting for something or someone to appear, but nothing did.

He looked back to his parents and the others, waiting for him. It was all he had ever wanted: to be reunited with his parents, to get to know them, to be free from the people and prophecy that had imprisoned him his entire life.

The scene of visiting his parents' grave entered his mind, and he closed his eyes to the light. With surprising detail and clarity, he could still picture Hermione in that moment: her nose and cheeks tinted red, a light dusting of snow in her hair, brown eyes full of emotion.

He could see her reaching her hand out to him, as she had done so many times in the past months, offering her guidance, her support, her courage to him willingly.

But when he opened his eyes, she wasn't there. The group to the right was still waiting for him, patient and smiling, but to the left, there was still just a staircase, leading down into the fog.

Somehow Harry knew that once he chose his path, once he set foot on one of the staircases, there would be no turning back. As he felt the shift in his weight and lifted his second foot, he knew he wouldn't even if he could.


End file.
